The metal room
by A Liar called Jago
Summary: After the Brotherhood has lost a battle, Erik is injured and on the run. He manages to get to Charles' mansion and discovers that it is now a school for young mutants. Unfortunately Erik's appearance disturbs the fragile peace. (set after Days of Future Past)
1. Chapter 1

He had to make it, he just had to reach the door. He would be safe there, at least that's what he hoped. There was no guarantee though. Actually, he knew for a fact that he wasn't welcome in this house, but where else could he go?

He was out of options. The ones he would have trusted in a situation like this, were all dead now...because of that little snitch. Spike! Oh how this snake would suffer if they would ever meet again! This mutant had joined the Brotherhood four months ago. A young man full of hate and vengeful thoughts because the humans had apparently experimented on him. A good actor, he had to grant him that. The perfect spy. Playing the mole for the military. No wonder that they knew about the Brotherhoods attack on their 'research' facility. They had been well prepared. Not much metal around for Magneto to protect his army. It had been gruesome...the ones who weren't able to flee in time had been mercilessly slaughtered. Erik barely escaped being killed himself. Some of the bullets were still inside him, he felt them but couldn't get them out. They weren't made out of metal but that made no difference in terms of efficiency. Those wretched bullets hurt as much as the conventional ones. Especially the wound on his hip seemed to be on fire. And since he first had to make sure that he'd lost his pursuers before he came to this place, the wounds had been untreated for a long time. Not to mention the significant amount of blood he had lost by now. He couldn't deny that the house in front of him was his last hope. If the owner would refuse to help him, he would most certainly die.

How unspectacular. This could not be Magnetos death. Not because of some stupid little mutant spy, who...did he mention that already?...would suffer immensely if they ever met again. But first things first, right? He had to make it to that door. His arms and legs felt like lead. With every step more blood trickled down his leg and his right side exploded with searing pain. The gravel path that lead to the house appeared to be endless. His skin felt so hot and sweat was dripping down his brows. Though the sun was shining, Erik doubted that it was her fault that he was sweating so much. Suddenly everything around him had a purple hue and looked surreal, so he closed his eyes in order to get rid of this strange vision. To close his eyes felt so good, so right, he was so tired...he needed to sleep, just for a short while...

Erik noticed in the nick of time that he was swaying, almost falling over so he snapped his eyes open and took a deep breath. He couldn't fall asleep, not for a second. He had to go on, the door was so close, just a few more steps. He could do it! Piece of cake, right?

After what felt like an eternity, Erik reached the door and with the last strength he could muster he knocked at the door. He sighed. Did he just knock? Was he trying to be polite while blood was pooling around his feet? Why didn't he bend the metal inside the lock and simply entered? After all, time was of essence here. Deep down Erik knew that he couldn't do that, not even now. He had no right to be here, no right to ask the owner of this mansion for help. But he was the only person he could turn to under these circumstances. The police and the military were looking for him, so a hospital was out of the question. People would recognize him, even without the cape and the helmet. Since the whole thing with the Sentinels and the president two years ago, he and his Brotherhood had been...well, let's just say that the media had no shortage of videos and pictures of Magneto. He was a fugitive and with all his allies dead, he had no one to help him, nowhere to go. So yes, he was at the mercy of the owner of this house and intruding wouldn't be such a glorious idea. Erik had to lean heavy against the doorframe to prevent himself from falling. He hung his head and watched how droplets of sweat trickled from his face to the floor, mixing with the blood that was already forming a puddle between his feet. He smiled, it looked beautiful, especially with the purple hue around it. Purple? Oh no, not again! He had to stay awake!

Movement in the metal lock caught his attention, the door swung open and Erik looked up. The man in front of him had a purple halo and Erik would have laughed at the sight, if the reason why his world was so strangely coloured hadn't been such a grave one.

"You?! What the hell are you doing here?!" Hank growled, "You have the nerve to come here! After what you did...", Hanks facial expression changed from angry to sad as he finished the sentence, "...to him." Only now did Hank register the blood soaked clothes of his opponent and the red puddle on the floor that was slowly getting bigger. "Ehm...you don't look so good." Hank stared at him in shock and if Erik would have had enough strength left in him he would have rolled his eyes. He tried to say something like: -I got shot...that's my blood on the floor by the way...so would you help me please, I'm dying here. - But the only sound that left his lips was a pathetic wheezing.

"Whoa, whoa...okay, don't die on our doorstep please." Hank helped him inside the house and shouted: "I need some help here!" Much to Erik's surprise, help came. The building wasn't empty and deserted, on the contrary. The corridors were full of young people, mutants...was this a school again? Erik saw a woman in an white coat running towards him and the purple hue in his vision turned slowly into black.

* * *

Beeping, constant beeping. A room covered in white tiles. He was lying on a bed. There were tubes and wires attached to him. Monitors around him, beeping always beeping...was that his heart? So he was alive then? Good. Erik fell asleep again. For a long time he drifted in and out of consciousness. He neither knew what time it was, nor what day and he didn't care. This place was safe and knowing that, he allowed himself to give in to the drugs that were coursing through his veins. Sometimes, when he opened his eyes there was someone in a white coat standing next to his bed checking on him, asking questions, though he couldn't recall if he answered them. And one time there was Hank, looking at him, worried but somehow Erik knew that it wasn't because of him. He was worried about something or someone else.

Another time Erik opened his eyes, it was dark. Only the faint glow of the machines that surrounded him illuminated the room. He felt like he was being watched and became aware of a figure sitting in the left corner of the chamber, staring at him, unmoving. Erik turned his head to stare back, to show that he knew that someone was there. Unfortunately he couldn't keep it up for long and fell asleep. It was still dark when he regained consciousness again. There were hushed voices. Hank was arguing with someone else and even though they both obviously tried to be as silent as possible, they didn't quite succeed. Erik could hear everything and noticed that Hank sounded tired and drained: "You shouldn't be here, please, it's not good for you."

"You always know what's good for me, don't you...Well, fuck you Hank."

Charles? Was that Charles? If it was him, he sounded different, somehow off...

"Have you been drinking?...Where did you find that bottle? Give it to me." Hank seemed to have succeeded in taking the bottle away from Charles, because there was a frustrated growl followed by: "Give it back! It's my life. It's my choice. I can get drunk if I want to."

"Yes, once might be okay. But we both know that's not enough for you. You won't stop after one glass or even one bottle. I don't want to lose you again. Please go back to sleep, it's the middle of the night. "

Charles was drunk? That was probably the reason why his voice sounded so raw and unsteady.

"So what? I can stay up as long as I choose to. I'm not a child, Hank. I'm gonna stay here."

"Don't you see it?" Hank started to lose his patience, "He has been here for less than 24 hours and you're already back on your old self-destructive path. Don't throw the last year away, Charles, I beg you."

"Fuck off, Hank!"

Erik heard Hank huff in frustration and noticed that he left the room without another word.

Listening to the argument of the two men had drained Erik more than he liked to admit and he was already falling asleep again when he heard a sob from across the room. Although it confused and worried him immensely, his attempt to stay awake a bit longer and inquire the matter failed.

* * *

The room was flooded with white neon light once more. Erik was still drifting in and out of consciousness but he managed to stay awake a bit longer in between. The doctor or nurse or whatever she was, came again. She asked him how he felt and told him that they had to cut two bullets out of him. One had been in his left shoulder and the other one in his right side just above the hip. The latter bullet hadn't been very deep inside but unfortunately the wound had gotten infected. They had it under control now. With the right medication and a lot of rest he would be fine.

"Thank you", Erik said and really meant it. Without the help of this woman and her staff...friends...whatever they were...he would have most certainly died.

Another time Erik opened his eyes, Hank stood at the bedside again, looking at him in a way Erik couldn't interpret. "What?", he asked, unsure what else to do.

"Oh, you can talk now. Good. When will you leave?"

"I'm sorry for coming here, but I had no choice. I would've avoided it but... Look, I know I'm not welcome, as soon as I can walk, I'll vanish."

"Yeah, you're really good at that...vanishing." Hank said, anger clearly visible on his face.

"What do you want, Hank?" Erik asked irritated.

"Oh, what I want is to punch you in the face as hard as I can but I guess that won't change the past."

Erik frowned. "What are you on about?"

"You destroyed him. For ten years he was a wreck, then the Trask-thing happened and I thought he would get better, he even got off the drugs but then...you dropped parts of a Stadium on him and vanished again. After that...he was even worse. You can't imagine what he did to himself." Hank took a deep breath to calm himself. He felt tears welling up but he wouldn't cry in front of Erik. "One year was worse than those ten years after Cuba. I pulled him out of it... somehow.. and we built up the school together but now...now you are here. You haven't even talked to him and he's already falling again."

"Well, what do you want me to do then? You say I have to leave but you also blame me for always leaving..."

Erik tried to hide his emotions, tried to keep his facial expression as neutral as possible. To hear that Charles was in such a bad shape...and that maybe..maybe he was to blame for that...

He had noticed that Charles had changed when he'd met him in the Pentagon and during their fight on the plane he'd caught a glimpse of the deep sorrow that the telepath was carrying around. Losing the ability to walk was hard and to meet the person again who was responsible for that wasn't easy as well. What had happened back in Cuba was entirely Eriks fault. It had been an accident, he had made a wrong decision. He should have simply stopped the bullets instead of deflecting them. It didn't matter though, he couldn't turn back time and change it. So yes, Cuba was his fault but he wouldn't take the blame for what happened to Charles after the Trask-Mission or for whatever was going on now. That was ridiculous. Charles was a grown man and if he couldn't pull himself together...well...how was that Eriks fault?

This was confusing and frankly too much for his tired mind. He realized that he would fall asleep soon, his eyelids were getting heavy again.

"You should stay this time...for once."

"What?" Erik was wide awake now, obviously confused.

"Don't get me wrong", Hank explained, "I wanna throw you out of the mansion right now...but maybe it would help Charles if you'd stay. So for his sake I ask you to stay, take time to recover, talk to him. Even if he shouts at you that you should leave..stay. He doesn't mean half the things he says when he's...Look, I can't go through this again...watching him destroy himself, unable to ease his pain, to make it stop...Maybe it's a bad idea if you stay Erik, maybe not...I don't know. What I know is that I have no strength left. So, please, help me with Charles. He can't fall again."

This was not what Erik expected. Hank asked him to stay? To help Charles? The thought made him nervous. He wasn't really experienced with helping people. What could he do that Hank hadn't already tried? But somehow he felt that he had to give it a shot, he was after all responsible for Charles' paralysed legs. And if that was the root of the problem...

Erik sighed: "Alright. I'll stay. But I can't promise anything."

The relief in Hanks eyes was hard to miss. "Thank you", he mumbled and then left the room. Erik took a deep breath and pondered about what Hank had said but not for long. Fatigue caught up with him eventually.

* * *

(Hi! Hope you liked it so far. English is not my native language and I am sorry for the mistakes I most likely made when I wrote this story) ;)


	2. Chapter 2

A sharp pain shooting through his lower body woke him up. He hissed and tried to get away from whatever was causing it. He felt hands grabbing him, holding him down. Someone told him to calm down, to stop moving and Erik opened his eyes. He saw the woman in the white coat standing on the right side of the bed, cleaning his infected wound on the hip. A young man on the left side was holding him still. Realizing that this was a harmless situation, he stopped squirming immediately and they continued to clean the wound and put a fresh bandage around it. After that, Erik was exhausted. Even though he hadn't moved at all, he felt like he'd been running 10 laps around the house. So he fell asleep once again.

Darkness. So it was night, Erik concluded. He turned his head to the left and wasn't surprised to see the figure from last night sitting there, staring at him. Time and again he heard the person swallow at regular intervals as if he was drinking.

"Charles?", Erik asked tentatively. No answer, but the drinking stopped. There was an uncomfortable silence between them. Erik racked his brain for something to say to Charles and eventually came up with: "Thank you for your help, Charles, for letting me stay here."

The only response he got was a snort, followed by several gulps. Erik waited for the other one to say something but there wasn't a single word. Silence stretched on and Erik fell asleep again.

When he woke up the next time, it was still dark inside the room and Erik turned his head quickly to the left side to find out if Charles had left. Relief washed over him when he saw Charles' shape in the corner of the room. An idea struck him and he carefully touched the metal of the wheelchair with his mind. Slowly he began to pull the chair towards him. There was no protest, not even a surprised gasp, maybe Charles was asleep. Erik knew that this was a bit unfair but he wanted to see him, not just as a shadow in the dark. It has been a long time...

Slowly, steadily, the wheelchair rolled to the left side of the bed and in the dim lights of the monitors, Erik saw Charles for the first time after two years. He was thin..too thin. He looked small and fragile. His hair was short again but greasy and unkempt. Some stubbles were visible on his face and there were dark circles around his eyes. Charles seemed to sleep or...Erik's gaze fell to the empty whiskey bottle in the telepaths lap...or maybe he's knocked himself out with a bottle of Jack Daniels. Since when did Charles drink cheap whiskey anyway?

Suddenly the telepaths eyes snapped open only to close again. Where was he...and why was it so bright? The lights of the monitors were hurting his eyes but they adjusted nonetheless and then he saw him. Erik. So close. Too close.

"No, no, no, no", he mumbled and started to breathe too quick. He tried to get away from Erik as fast as he could but the alcohol in his system made it very hard to steer the chair accurately. So he knocked one of the monitors over, which immediately began to complain with a loud and continuous alarm sound. "Shit!", Charles cursed and suddenly started to moan. He swayed alarmingly back and forth until he fell out of the wheelchair. The moaning persisted. His hands clasped around his head, Charles was lying on his stomach, eyes shut tight.

Erik wanted to jump out of the bed but the sharp pain exploding in his hip hindered him. So he concentrated on the metal lock and yanked the door open with his powers. "Help! Somebody help!", he screamed as loud as he could to get the attention of anyone who might be close by. Fortunately the woman in the white coat was already on her way. The strange sound of the monitor that had fallen over had alarmed her. She ran straight to Erik but he said: "I'm fine. I'm fine. Something's wrong with him!" He pointed to Charles who was still lying on the floor, moaning and writhing in pain. To Eriks surprise the woman relaxed and casually said: "Oh, I see. Don't worry. He's going to be okay. I'll get Hank." She turned off the monitor that had been knocked over, walked out of the room and left a completely bewildered Erik behind.

* * *

When Hank ran into the room, Erik could tell from the disheveled hair that he'd already been in bed. There was worry but also recognition visible in his eyes, as if he'd seen this a hundred times before. Then he spotted the empty whiskey bottle, that had dropped to the floor when Charles had fallen out of the wheelchair. Hank rolled his eyes, sighed and mumbled: "Seriously, where do you always find them?"

He sat down next to Charles, turned him around and pulled him up, so that his back was now resting against his own chest and Charles' head was leaning against his left collarbone. With one hand Hank pressed him close, with the other he gently stroke the telepaths hair. Slowly Charles let go of his head and relaxed a bit but he still seemed in distress.

"Hank?"

"Yes, I'm here, Charles, it's gonna be alright. Just breathe. Everything is okay, you're not alone."

"I can't control my body, Hank...I can't feel it."

"Yes you can. Concentrate on my hands. You can feel them, right?"

There was a moment of silence and then Charles sighed in relief: "Yes."

"What's going on, Hank?" Erik watched the whole thing with growing concern. "What's wrong with him?"

Hank turned his head to the side so he could look at Erik. "It's a panic attack. He used to get them regularly after you dropped parts of a Stadium on him. It shouldn't surprise me that much that they return too, after you decided to visit us."

So that was his fault too? Another accusation. Erik wanted to feel angry but to his astonishment there wasn't much anger around, just something that could only be described as guilt. Guilt? He couldn't feel guilty! He didn't do it on purpose and besides bad things happen to people all the time. You need to get over them, put them behind you. Those moments have to make you stronger not weaker. Why couldn't Charles do that?

Hank was sitting with his back to the metal bender and so Charles couldn't see Erik but he had heard his voice.

"Hank, I can hear Erik. I can hear him." Charles breathing became shallow and fast again.

"It's alright Charles, calm down. He's here, he's been shot and we helped him. Remember?"

"No, no, no! He can't see me like this, Hank, please, get me out of here", the telepath whispered in distress.

"Calm down, Charles. You're breathing too fast."

All attempts to soothe Charles failed. He was almost hyperventilating now. Hank still whispered reassuring words to him but they didn't seem to help at all. The room started to spin, Charles squeezed his eyes shut to make it stop but it made it even worse. Suddenly the telepath pushed himself up, leaned to the side and threw up.

Erik couldn't see it but he heard what was going on. A mixture of pity and guilt washed over him. That stupid guilt again! It wasn't his fault! Not all of it anyway.

Hank was cursing under his breath, holding Charles' upper body so he wouldn't fall into his own vomit out of sheer exhaustion.

After a while the nausea seemed to ease off and only shallow breathing sounded in the darkness.

Then Charles' weak voice could be heard: "Get me out of here Hank, please."

The glance that Hank shot Erik was filled with so many emotions at once but the most obvious message in it seemed to say: 'Look at what you did to him!'

Though Erik refused to let it get to him. It couldn't get to him because...Verdammt, it wasn't his fault!

Hank lifted Charles up and carried him out of the room without another word.

* * *

A man came and cleaned the floor, he took the wheelchair away and fixed the monitor that had been knocked over. Then the woman in the white coat checked on him again and Erik took the opportunity to question her about what he'd just witnessed.

"You're a doctor, right?"

"Yes."

"So why didn't you help him? Why did you get Hank?"

She sighed: "This wasn't the first time I saw the professor like this. I knew exactly that I wouldn't be able to help him. I tried it once but only Hank can calm him down eventually. I wonder...he hasn't had a panic attack in over a year now...did you say something that might have triggered it?"

Erik felt anger welling up inside him and the metal in the room started to rattle and screech.

"Why does everybody think this is my fault?! I am not responsible for this!", he hissed. "It is not my fault, do you understand?!"

The shock in the eyes of the woman in front of him made him realize that several small metal objects floated around them, some twisted, some torn apart. He let them fall to the floor and averted his gaze.

"I'm sorry", the doctor said, "I didn't mean it that way. I just thought that... maybe your appearance brought back memories. That's all. You can't be responsible. Like I said, the professor had these panic attacks before and I don't recall you ever being at the school. It's not your fault."

Exactly, Erik thought, it wasn't his fault. None of it was. He had been far away from the school, from Charles. They both had minded their own business. He had built the Brotherhood, Charles had built the school. There was no way that Erik was...that he was..the reason...right?

Erik closed his eyes and sank deeper into the pillows. The doctor couldn't see his inner turmoil and mistook it as tiredness.

"You should get some rest", she smiled reassuringly and left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

It was around four o'clock in the afternoon when Erik decided that he was done lying in bed all day. He needed a change of scenery. The white tiled walls in this room started to unnerve him and besides he hadn't seen Hank or Charles since the incident last night. He had told Hank that he would try to help Charles and staying in this room all the time would get them nowhere.

So Erik removed the wires and needles and turned off the monitors before they could start to alarm anyone. The doctor would probably notice anyway that he was gone but he hoped that it would buy him a little bit more time until she did. He carefully got up and made a few tentative steps to see if his hip could take it. His movements were stiff and slow. There was hot pain radiating from his wound up to his ribs and down his right leg, but it was bearable. He could ignore that for a couple of hours. Thankfully the wound on his shoulder didn't hurt that much and so he could use both hands to occasionally hold on to furniture or the wall when his steps got too unsteady.

He was wearing grey tracksuit bottoms and a black shirt that he'd found lying on a chair in the right corner of the room he'd been in for three days. Three days? Already? Erik wondered if any of the other mutants of the Brotherhood had survived. He knew that some of them had been able to flee but how far did they manage to flee? Did the military hunt them down afterwards? Erik had been very careful not to lead them here. But what if they found out? As he wandered through the many corridors of the Xavier mansion to get to the staircase that would lead him to Charles' private rooms, he saw so many young mutants, innocent students. They seemed happy and oblivious to the war that was going on between the humans and the mutants. This place was like a sanctuary. Save, secure, far away from the real world. If the military would find him here they would probably kill every last mutant in the mansion, regardless of their age. Erik hoped desperately that he'd covered all his tracks, that he'd been as thorough as possible.

Some of the students were looking at Erik in awe, some in fear, some even looked curious, but none of them approached him. Maybe they weren't so oblivious after all. They probably recognized him from the news. So Charles allowed them to watch TV. Great. That was good for him. This way the children wouldn't dare bother him. Slowly, Erik placed one foot in front of the other, keeping a hand on the wall for balance. Finally he reached the stairway that would lead to Charles' room. Although he wasn't sure if the telepath would still occupy the same room. A lot had changed since the last time Erik had lived in this house. Has it already been more than twelve years? Familiar melancholy washed over him. Every time he thought back to the time before Cuba this feeling visited him. Oh, how he wished for those days to return. Charles had let him stay here and had taught him to unlock his true potential. Erik had been a part of something but not against his will, he could've left the mansion anytime. He had never felt so free before, not even after Shaw's death. But those days were gone, it would never be like that anymore, it couldn't, too much had happened between him and Charles.

Erik took a deep breath and pushed the melancholy and the memories back into the dark corner of his mind, where they had emerged from. This was not the time to be sentimental. He had to focus on the task at hand, which was reaching Charles' room without falling down the stairs. To climbe the stairs turned out to be much more painful than simply walking around the corridors. Erik had never before been happier about the robust wooden banisters of those stairways and that most of the students were in their classrooms now. This way, only a few people saw him dragging himself up the stairs like an old man. When he reached the top, he was shaking and his shirt stuck to his body, soaked in sweat. He closed his eyes to concentrate on his breathing and successfully slowed it down. He had no desire to pass out right now. His inelegant walk was enough embarrassment for the day. Erik opened his eyes again and saw that a young woman approached him, she looked genuinely concerned. But before she could say something to him, he threw an angry look at her. It had the desired effect. The girl hesitated and then decided that it would be best to leave him alone.

Erik continued to place one foot in front of the other, always making sure that one of his hands kept contact with the wall. It would be very unfortunate if Charles had occupied another room, because right now, Erik wasn't even sure if he would make it back to his own chamber. When he reached the door that had been the one to Charles' room back then, he took a deep breath before he knocked. There was no answer, no sound at all.

What if Charles was in one of the classrooms, teaching? Although, after he'd seen the state Charles had been in last night, Erik doubted that he would be teaching a class today, so he knocked again. There was still no response. The wound in his hip started to throb painfully and the strength that was left in his legs wasn't even worth mentioning. His legs wouldn't carry him back to the stairs, let alone to his own room. Erik decided to enter the chamber without permission, after all, a locked door had never been an obstacle for him. The satisfying 'click' of the last metal cylinder falling into place inside the lock indicated that the door was ready to be opened now and slowly, Erik stepped into the room. It still looked like Charles was occupying it. There were so many books pilling on the floor, on the table, on the shelves, on the bedside table, on the window sills, some where even lying on the bed. At first Erik thought that the telepath wasn't in here but then he spotted him sitting in his wheelchair next to a window. He seemed to be asleep, his eyes were closed and his head hung to one side, which didn't look very comfortable. As silent as possible, Erik made his way to an armchair, that was facing Charles, so he would be able to see him when he woke up. Although, the longer he thought about it...maybe this wasn't such a good idea...sneaking into Charles' room, while he was sleeping... that could go south, just like last night. Well, he couldn't go back now.

Erik sat down and unfortunately wasn't able to suppress a moan when the wound on his hip protested against the rough treatment once again. The sound was enough to wake Charles up.

"What are you doing here", he hissed. Anger radiating from him like heat from a fire. Erik was relieved that the telepath didn't seem to have a panic attack right away after seeing him, like it had happened last night. Anger was much better. He could deal with anger. Charles was scowling at him.

"Go! Now!"

"I'm sorry, Charles. I can't. Even if I wanted to."

"Why?"

"...Thought that getting to your room would be easier."

"No one told you to come here. I'll call for someone who'll help you to your room." Charles said in a slightly annoyed tone. His anger was fading a bit.

"No, don't. At least not yet." Erik pleaded. "I need to talk to you."

"I have nothing to say to you."

"But I do."

There was silence for a while and then Charles sighed: "Alright. Say what you have to say."

Now Erik was at a loss. He hadn't thought that far ahead. What was there to talk about? What should he say to Charles? What did Hank expect from him? Talk to Charles, Hank had said to him, but he never mentioned about what exactly.

"So?"

Erik decided to go with the only question that was swirling around in his head since last night. It was probably not the best idea but he guessed that it was as good as anything he could say right now.

"What happened to you last night?"

"As I said before..I have nothing to say to you."

"Hank said, that it was a panic attack and that it was because of me. According to Hank I'm also to blame for all the things you did to yourself after the Trask-Mission. What did you do and why? Was it really my fault? All of it? I know that I am to blame for your legs and you know that I am sorry for that. I truly am. If I could turn back time and change it...I would do it without hesitating a second, but I can't."

Charles hung his head and mumbled: "I know."

"Now tell me...Why does Hank think that everything bad you do to yourself is my fault? When it's obvious that you just can't pull yourself together."

Anger flared up in Charles' eyes again, he leaned forward and shouted at Erik: "Pull myself together?! You betrayed me, Erik. You betrayed us. We broke you out of the Pentagon, we trusted you. We thought you would help us. Instead you turned on us and tried to kill Raven. RAVEN! For fuck's sake! I thought you loved her. And as if that hadn't been enough already...you buried me alive under stone and metal ." Tears were now visible in Charles' eyes and started to roll down his cheeks as he went on: "You shattered my hope, Erik! For the second time! You destroyed it and then left me again. So YES!...Forgive me if I have a hard time pulling myself together! I can't...I just...I..." Charles buried his face in his hands and sobbed.

Erik wanted to tell him that he had done those things because he'd thought they were necessary. Except for burying him under debris of the stadium of course. That had been an accident. But he couldn't bring himself to say anything at all. His eyes were burning and his throat felt too tight. Seeing Charles cry in front of him and because of him...it confused him. He felt sorry...really sorry for the pain he had caused Charles...even though he couldn't understand why his actions had such a devastating effect on the telepath.

Erik used his power to pull Charles' wheelchair as close as possible to the armchair he was sitting in. The man in front of him was still crying and Erik didn't know what to do, so he hugged him. At first he felt how Charles winced at the sudden touch and closeness but after a while he buried his face into Erik's shoulder and sobbed even harder.

Erik's confusion increased when he noticed that he was crying too. There were tears rolling down his cheeks and he couldn't stop them, he didn't know how. Why was he crying? It made no sense at all.

* * *

Hi! I hope you liked the story so far. :) Please let me know what you think. I love reviews. hihihi...

Jago


	4. Chapter 4

He sensed it, he couldn't see it and there was no sound at all, but somehow he felt it. Erik was crying. Such a strange thing. Charles had gotten used to his own uncharacteristic behavior. The countless panic attacks, the nervous breakdowns, the hysterical crying...well, 'gotten used to' was probably not the right thing to say, he just wasn't surprised anymore. But the cold-hearted Magneto crying...? That was something new.

Charles' own sobs had finally subsided and he felt calm and ...safe? Another oxymoron. Feeling safe in the arms of Magneto...

He didn't know why, but Erik's familiar scent gave him something back that he thought he'd lost a long time ago...his sense of self-worth. Even if it was just a fraction of how it used to be before Cuba but something was there. There seemed to be tiny little sparks inside his head, each one a feeling he hadn't had in years; strength, courage, self-assurance, happiness and above all, a small flicker of hope...

Charles smothered the sparks immediately. This was insane, he couldn't allow himself to feel that way again. Erik would leave sooner or later, just like he always did. So everything Erik's presence tricked him to feel was just a ruse, his own mind playing games with him, making him believe that he mattered, that he was someone...someone Erik cared about. It was a complete and utter lie. Erik cared about his mission, his war against the humans, his plans to eradicate them and he most certainly did not care about some cripple who couldn't pull himself together.

A whisper in the back of his head demanded to know why the powerful Magneto was shedding tears then, if he truly was as cold and impassive as Charles thought him to be.

The telepath slowly slipped out of Erik's embrace, sat back in his wheelchair and ran a hand over his face to wipe the tears away.

Erik stared at him with a questioning look, tears still streaming down his face. He seemed helpless and completely confused.

"Are you okay, Erik?" Charles asked.

"Yes, yes." Erik was obviously trying hard to stop the seemingly endless stream of tears.

"Are you in pain?"

"No, I'm not. It's nothing. I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying."

Charles believed him, it genuinely seemed like Erik didn't know. Somehow he wanted to peek inside the metal bender's head to find out what was going on. He had seen Erik cry before, yes, but never like this. There had to be a reason, something in his subconscious mind maybe, a suppressed memory slowly resurfacing, something...NO! He had sworn to himself that he would never get inside Erik's head again. What good would it do anyway. Erik was crying and didn't know the reason...so what? How many times had he been crying in bed without any obvious reason? Too many times! And whose fault had that been?

Charles felt how an irrational amount of anger rose up in him and before he could stop himself, the words had already left his lips: "Well, you obviously can't pull yourself together, can you?"

The minute he spoke the last word, he regretted it with all his heart.

"You still haven't told me what you did to yourself during that one year, Hank was referring to."

The best defense was offense and if there was something Erik was good at, it was offense.

Although, it was Charles, who had started yet another fight with his inconsiderate comment, he wished it to end the second it began. He didn't want to fight and there was no way he would tell Erik what he did to himself. "I think you should leave now."

"What did you do, Charles? Did you take the drugs again so you could walk and suppress your mutation, as if it was a disease? Did you drink yourself into a coma?" The metal bender had now finally been able to stop crying, as anger got a hold on him again. Wiping the tears off his face he glared at Charles.

"I'm not going to talk about it, Erik."

"Tell me! If the things you did were the results of my actions, then I deserve to know."

"No!" Charles couldn't take it any longer. He knew that if this would continue he would most likely have a nervous breakdown or even worse, a panic attack and he would tell Erik everything he did. But that couldn't happen. Never. So he touched his temple with two fingers and called Hank.

"What was that about?"

"I got you help, so you can return to your own room."

"I'm not gonna leave this alone, Charles."

The telepath sighed: "Why do you wanna know? You don't care about me."

Nothing explained Erik's strange interrogation, except curiosity maybe. Yes, Erik probably just wanted to know how low Charles had sunk. He wanted to gloat, to laugh at him. He would despise him for being so weak. The answer that came out of Erik's mouth surprised him though: "I always cared for you and I still do."

"If that's the truth, you are really crappy at showing it. You went away, you left me alone, time and again. How can I believe what you're saying? Your actions showed that you only care about yourself and your mission to destroy the humans. Even the members of your Brotherhood are mere foot soldiers to you, walking weapons, every single one of them is a means to an end. You're incapable of caring, you're a killer, Erik."

Ah, he shouldn't have said that. Why did he always felt the urge to slap himself in the face every time he opened his mouth?

A pained look flitted across Erik's face.

"Do you remember Cuba, Charles?"

"Of course I do. What do you think?!"

"Then you know that all of this is technically your fault. Everything that happened afterwards, the things you did to yourself...you blame me for it, you say I shattered your hope, destroyed you?...Well, think back, Charles. You could have prevented it all on that beach. Just one word from you and everything could have turned out differently. You're right, when you say that I don't care about anyone. It's true, I don't. But you are the exception, Charles. I always cared about you and I said something to you in Cuba, something I never said to anyone before. Remember?"

Charles stayed silent. He knew exactly what Erik was referring to, he recalled it vividly but he was too confused, too shocked about the things he'd heard to say anything.

"I repeat it for you: I want you by my side, that's what I said and you...you said no, you pushed me away, you wanted me to leave, it was not the other way around. Your legs...that was my fault but I won't take the blame for what you did to yourself. I never wanted to leave you. I would have stayed by your side, Charles. And if you don't believe me, go ahead, look into my head and see for yourself."

Charles shook his head slowly, eyes wide open and burning. The full weight of Erik's words crushing down on him. He couldn't speak, his mouth was dry and his heart was beating too fast. His mind had a hard time processing all the information but something inside of him already comprehended that there was a certain truth to those words.

"You destroyed yourself. I am not your enemy, Charles. You are. So if you want to blame someone...blame yourself."

Charles could do nothing else than simply stare at Erik. He felt dizzy and was on the brink of crying again. He didn't want to, not now. It was a relief when Hank entered the room and broke the strained silence.

"Charles, everything okay? You called me...oh, Erik's here. You know that Serena is looking for you everywhere, Erik."

"Who's Serena?" Erik asked.

"The doctor", Hank answered and looked at Charles with growing concern. "Charles? Are you alright?"

The telepath realized that he was still staring at Erik, he cleared his throat and hoped that his voice wouldn't betray him.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Hank. Could you help Erik get to his room, please?"

Hank did not seem convinced at all but he nodded. "Sure."

Then he went over to Erik and made an attempt to help him out of the chair.

"Don't touch me. I can get up on my own", was the response he got for that.

"Alright", Hank mumbled and stepped back. Erik got up and made two tentative steps but when he hissed in pain and almost fell over, Hank hurried to catch him. Now with Hanks help, Erik left the room, but before the door closed behind them, Erik looked back and asked: "Can we play some chess tomorrow? I'm really bored down there, you know."

Charles was too perplexed to do anything but nod. A smile flitted across Erik's face and to see that smile, how brief it may have been, filled the telepath with joy. But when the door closed and the silence fell, he heard the harsh words again, echoing inside his head: 'It's your fault. You destroyed yourself. I never wanted to leave you. You pushed me away. Blame yourself...blame yourself...blame yourself...'


	5. Chapter 5

A hundred thoughts were swirling around in Charles' head but this time, they were all his own. But between those thoughts, Erik's voice still resounded: 'It's your own fault.'

He couldn't deny that Erik was right to some extent. He did turn him down in Cuba. He had told him back then, that they didn't want the same thing. Charles wanted peace, Erik wanted war..one could not exist alongside the other, right? Had it really been necessary to push Erik away though, to go entirely separate ways and ignore each other for ten years? Couldn't they have found some kind of middle ground? What would have happened if Charles would have said something different on that day in Cuba? Would they have stayed at the school together? Searching for other mutants, training them, teaching them? Would Charles have been able to convince Erik to be less violent, to be more forgiving towards the human race? The vision of how it could have been was so beautiful that with the realisation of why it had never come to pass, a wave of nausea swept over him.

Charles gripped the armrests of his wheelchair tightly and squeezed them until his knuckles turned white. He was aware that he was breathing too fast again, but the attempt to slow it down, to get rid of the nausea, failed and he had to retch, though nothing came out. Then the tears came again, silently streaming down his cheeks.

So, it was true then. He had been the initiator, he had pushed Erik away and in doing so, had forced Raven to choose between them. They had not abandoned him, no, he had divided their group, split them in two. He wasn't any better than Shaw. The way he'd reacted to Erik's wish, had probably played a considerable part in creating Magneto.

Charles steered his wheelchair to the wooden desk and grabbed the tumbler that was standing on top of it. It was empty and there was no whiskey bottle either. He moaned and closed his eyes. He needed something, now! He tried to concentrate to get his hands on alcohol the way he'd done it the last two days but his mind wouldn't let him. The need was strong, yes, but the crushing guilt and the shame were now way too dominant to ignore. Charles' grip tightened around the tumbler, frustration replaced the guilt and shame. Why was all of it so complicated? Why did all this happen to him? His world had started to fall apart twelve years ago and it was still crumbling. Just when he thought he was on the mend, that life wasn't so bad after all, that hope could be found anew, Erik's words turned his life upside down again. Why couldn't it stop? Just stop...so he could think again, breathe, eat, sleep...

Charles banged the tumbler with such force onto the table that it smashed to pieces and some glass-shards buried themselves deep into the flesh of his hand. He didn't flinch or cry out in pain, just turned his hand around and looked at it in shock. He couldn't feel it, not a bit. There was no pain, no sensation at all! Blood was dripping on the table and trickling down his arm. He grabbed one of the shards that stuck in his hand and pushed it even deeper inside. Nothing! Nothing at all. He couldn't feel his hand anymore!

"Charles?! What are you doing?! Stop it!"

Charles turned his head around and saw that Hank was standing right next to him. He hadn't heard him enter the room.

"Hank, I can't feel my hand...I can't feel the cuts, the pain...I don't feel...I..." Charles stammered.

Hank sighed and gently took Charles arm in his hands. "Calm down, everything is fine. See, you can feel my hands on your arm. There's nothing wrong with your arm. Do you feel my touch?"

Charles nodded.

"Good." Hank said and moved one hand up to Charles' injured hand. "Now, you can feel my touch on the back of your hand as well, can't you?"

Instead of an answer, Charles hissed in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. The panic attack subsided and suddenly he felt all of it, the cuts, the shards inside his flesh, the blood that was dripping down...

The pain wasn't that bad but the sudden force with witch the sensation had returned to him, made him dizzy.

Hank's concern was hard to miss when he asked: "Charles, what's wrong? You're pale as death."

"..think I'm gonna pass ou..." the telepath mumbled but couldn't even finish the sentence. His head fell back and he lost consciousness.

* * *

Hank was worried sick. Not because of Charles' hand, no. He had cleaned the wound and had put a bandage around it. It would heal. Maybe he would ask Serena later if she could take a look at it. There was only one deep cut though. It was the one Charles had deliberately pushed a shard deeper inside. And that was exactly what worried Hank. The self-mutilation. He'd thought that was over. But then again, Charles had been drinking in the past two days, too. So if he was just picking up where he'd left a year ago...NO! This had to stop, immediately. Hank would watch Charles like a hawk from now on. He wouldn't allow him to do that sick thing again. Never! Cutting yourself is one thing, but this...this other...NO! Hank couldn't even think about it, without feeling nauseated. He made a promise to himself to stay alert so he could detect the tiniest sign indicating that Charles had started THAT again.

Charles was lying on the bed now, Hank had tucked him in. The telepath was still unconscious and all Hank could do was worry about him.

When Hank had helped Erik return to his room safely, he had tried to get something out of him, to find out what they had been talking about. Because the atmosphere in Charles' room had made his hair stand on end. There had been a strange silence between them and even though Charles had claimed to be fine, it had been obvious that the opposite was the case. But Erik hadn't explained what happened between them, he had simply said: "You wanted me to talk to him, so I did." Hank had let the matter go when he had seen how exhausted Erik was and how red his eyes were, as if he'd been crying. So when they had finally reached Erik's room, Hank had returned to Charles as fast as he could. The nagging feeling that the telepath was about to do something bad again had turned out to be true.

So here he was, sitting in a chair next to Charles' bed, watching over him. Just like old times. Hank sighed. He had spent so many hours in this room, sitting in this chair, making sure Charles wouldn't be alone when he woke up because of a nightmare, or to keep him from doing THAT thing.

After the Trask-Mission was over, Hank had discovered that one of Charles' legs had been broken by the debris of the stadium that had fallen on top of him. He had to have surgery and the recovery took quite long, though he seemed to be fine during that time. After the bone had healed, the panic attacks started. He had nightmares almost every night, it resulted in him refusing to sleep at all. Which in turn made him either agitated and aggressive or lethargic and depressed. It had been nerve-racking, because everything that Hank had tried to make Charles feel better, to ease his anguish, hadn't worked. At one time he had even thought about giving him the serum again. But since Charles had never asked for it after the Trask-Mission, it would have been a very stupid idea to offer it to him. It had been the only positive thing back then, that Charles had apparently decided to quit the serum for good. Then again, it had been replaced with much worse things. First came the drinking. Charles used to drink quite a lot after Cuba, but two years ago he took it to a whole new level. He drank too much, too fast and repeatedly ended up unconscious. "This way I can at least sleep for a while without dreams", was all that Charles had said, when Hank had begged him to stop this self-destructive behaviour.

For weeks Charles had kept on doing that but then one night, after he had almost chocked on his own vomit, he had asked Hank to help him stop drinking. It had been such a relief that the telepath had finally realized how dangerous his behaviour was. The way through withdrawal had not been an easy one but Charles had managed to get through and Hank had gotten rid of every single bottle of alcohol in the mansion. Full of hope, he had thought that Charles was getting better and for some time it had even looked that way. The telepath tried to sleep again, the nightmares were still there but they seemed to vanish by and by. Sometimes he had talked about opening the school again and using Cerebro to find students. He had even smiled at Hank at some time and one day, he had thanked him for staying, for helping him get through it all. Hank had relaxed a bit. His friend seemed much better, so there was no need for watching over him day and night...and exactly that was the moment when it all went horribly wrong. Charles had been pretending all along, his good mood, his plans for the future...

And the reason why he had been sleeping much better lately wasn't just because time had finally healed his wounds, no. Charles had stopped eating. All the food that Hank had brought him to his room, breakfast, lunch, dinner...he'd thrown it away, so that Hank wouldn't notice it. Weakened by the lack of nourishment, Charles had slept deeper and longer. And of course he had started with THAT...

Hank sighed. He still wished he'd found out sooner that Charles had refused to eat anything and that he had begun to...to do...well..that horrible thing.

But this time was different. This time he would watch over Charles no matter what he'll say. He knew now, that if he heard him say things like: 'I'm fine' or 'I'm okay' or 'everything is all right', it most likely meant the complete opposite.

There was a moan and Hank saw Charles' eyes move for a bit under the closed eyelids before he opened them and looked at him with a pained expression on his face. "Oh, Hank. I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything. For making you do this again."

"Do what?"

"Looking after me, protecting myself from my own stupid...I know you thought that that time was over, that I felt better, stable...I thought that, too. I really did but seeing Erik here...it...I.." Charles couldn't finish the sentence, he was breathing too fast again, gasping for air as if he was drowning. Hank laid a hand on top of the telepaths chest and said: "I know, it's okay. Calm down."

Once again, it did the trick. Hank was glad that he had found out one day, that Charles was able to find his way out of a panic attack when he felt the slight pressure of Hank's hand on his chest or his arms.

"I don't mind looking after you, Charles. I just don't want to see you destroying yourself over and over. You promised me, after that horrible year, that you would never lie to me again. That you would talk to me when you felt the urge to do...THAT...you know...So please, I beg you, Charles, keep that promise." Charles averted his eyes and mumbled: "I will."

"Good. So my first question is...and no lies, please...when was the last time you ate something?"

The telepath kept looking at the blanket that covered his legs, trying to avoid Hank's gaze. A wave of shame pulled him under, when he whispered the words: "Two days ago." Hank got up immediately and walked over to the door. "All right. I'm gonna get you some food and you're gonna eat it in front of me. You know how it works. No excuse and no manipulation. Remember, you promised me that as well. You will never alter my mind again."

"I promise, Hank...please believe me, I will never do that again."

Hank could tell that Charles was honest this time. The feelings of guilt and shame were written all over his face. During that one year, Charles had used his power to hide what he did to himself. He had manipulated Hanks mind, had tricked him into thinking that he ate regularly, that he looked healthy and not like the skeleton he had been back then. But he hadn't been able to keep up the illusions and manipulations, when THAT thing he did, had started to take its toll. And eventually, Hank had found out that he'd been deceived. After that, Hank had thought about leaving Charles for the first and only time, and when the telepath had been responsive again, they had talked about it at length. Charles had been devastated and had promised Hank that he would never do something like that again.

"Good, I'll be right back." Hank felt queasy when he left the room. All of it seemed like one big déjà vu. This was bad, this was really bad. Almost everything was repeating itself. The drinking, the panic attacks, the outbursts that usually resulted in Charles getting hurt and now the not-eating...Hank didn't dare to think of the only thing that was missing on that list.

He prepared some food for Charles and went back to the room as fast as he could. Some of the students, who were still awake and passed by him on the corridors, stopped and asked him why the professor hadn't been teaching for three days. Hank simply told them, that the professor was sick but that he would be well soon again. At least, that was what Hank desperately hoped for.

He entered Charles' room and was glad when he saw that the telepath had stayed in bed and hadn't done anything to himself as far as he could tell. Though as he moved closer, Hank could see that Charles was crying. He put the food on the bedside table and sat down on the chair, sighing. With a soft and calming voice he asked: "Charles, please...tell me what's going on. No matter what it is...talk to me."

For a minute, only the sound of Charles' sobs could be heard but finally he managed to calm himself a bit and hesitantly started to speak.

"Erik said it was my fault that he left. He said I pushed him away...back in Cuba. He wanted me by his side, but I turned him down. And I told Raven to go with Erik. They never abandoned me, Hank. I pushed them away. Erik is right. It's the truth. But why? Why did I do it? I don't understand. And everything that happened after Cuba, everything that I did to myself...I am to blame for that. It's not Erik's fault. I know that now. All the hatred and anger I carried around for Erik...the feeling of abandonment, because he went away and took Raven with him...all of it...wrong. I fabricated something, because I couldn't deal with the loss of my legs, I guess. Did I? Didn't I? I don't know what to think anymore. I don't want to think...I don't want to feel... "

Hank was furious. What the hell had Erik been thinking when he had been talking to Charles?! This man had clearly not one shred of empathy in him.

"Listen to me, Charles. You are paralyzed because of Erik. That's a fact and another fact is... he never came to visit you after Cuba. Not once. Not even to apologize, or to see how you are doing. Raven, too. They didn't even call. So, the feeling of abandonment is reasonable. You told Raven to choose, she wanted to go with Erik. You didn't push her away, it was her choice. And as for Erik...you did not tell him to leave you. You simply said that you don't want the same thing, that your ideologies are too different. And if he thinks that you pushed him away...well too bad. That's his problem. As far as I can tell, you did nothing wrong. There is one thing you need to do, Charles...forget it all. Don't think about it anymore. It's been twelve years now...stop looking back...look to the future instead. We've built this school together. You are a great professor, the children miss you already. This is your future...to help young mutants, to teach them, guide them...you're good at that, Charles. You don't need the past anymore. You don't need Raven and Erik. There are so many young mutants, who look up to you, who love you, who won't leave you...I won't leave you. You are not alone."

Tears were streaming down Charles' face again, but there was also a little smile as he sighed: "Oh, Hank..."

Hank smiled back and took the plate from the bedside table.

"Now...you have to eat something. You need strength to teach. Those mutant students are challenging."

This made Charles laugh and Hank's heart jumped for joy at the sound of it. He had missed Charles' laughter, it had become such a rare thing.


	6. Chapter 6

This was all wrong. Why did it turn out like that? Hank had told him to talk to Charles, to help him somehow...and what had happened instead? They had had a fight. And not even a constructive or healing one, no...a stupid one. Stupid and unnecessary. He couldn't stop himself from saying those things. Verdammt, why was he always so offensive, so quick to enrage? Charles had only used the same words that Erik had said minutes ago, to get Charles to talk. And Charles always talked when he was angry. It was quite easy to manipulate him that way. But when those words had been targeted at Erik, it had hurt him more than he liked to admit. Because he had been vulnerable in that moment, he had let his guard down, he had been crying... and the reason for that was still a mystery to him. He wasn't used to crying. He'd shed one or two tears in the past, but...never like this. It had probably not been such a good idea to snap at Charles like that, to say all those things to him. Even though it was true. He would have stayed at Charles' side, if the telepath hadn't pushed him away back then. And yes, it was Charles' fault if he decided to hide in the mansion and to destroy himself, to wallow in self-pity.

Be that as it may...he shouldn't have said those things, not right now anyway. When he had left the room, Erik had realized that his words might have done some damage, so he had asked Charles if he would like to play chess on the next day. It had been a relief to see him nod. This way, Erik had an excuse to go to the telepaths room again, to check on him. And this time, he wouldn't let his guard down, he wouldn't let his own anger get in the way of finding out what Charles had done to himself during that one year. He didn't know why he was so curious about that, though. It was none of his business but Hank had asked him to help Charles, so...maybe if he knew what happened after the Trask-Mission, he would find a way to help him...somehow. There it was again...Why did he feel the need to help Charles? He didn't owe him anything.

A little voice inside Erik's head reminded him that in fact, he did owe Charles. More than one thing. The telepath had helped him to unlock his true power and of course he had helped him to kill Shaw. And how did Erik repay him? By paralyzing him. So...maybe the need to do something good for Charles wasn't as unbounded as he thought it was.

"Can you tell me what you were thinking, when you decided to go for a walk?"

Until now, Erik had been sitting on the bed, staring at the wall in front of him, lost in his thoughts. The sudden sound of a person's voice standing next to him, startled Erik. He turned his head around to see who had been able to sneak into the room without him noticing it. It was the doctor...what was her name again?...Serena?

He probably looked a bit shocked, because the doc...Serena was now smiling at him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. Didn't you hear me enter?"

Erik shook his head.

"Well, lie down again and let me have a look at the wound on your hip. You shouldn't be wandering around like that."

Erik did what he was told. He had to admit that he didn't feel that great and lying down was a relief.

"Your body temperature is raising again. You need to stay in bed Erik. Your body is still struggling with the infection. Even if you feel better because of the drugs we gave you, that doesn't mean you can run around. You need rest. That means, you won't leave this room until I say you can. Okay?"

"I told Charles that I would visit him again tomorrow. This is important. I have to." Erik mumbled. He was exhausted and could feel how sleep was creeping up on him.

"I'll tell the professor that he has to come and visit you instead. All right?" There was no response. Serena was worried when she saw that Erik had fallen into an uneasy sleep. Sweat was visible on his forehead. She would have to check on him regularly this night, to make sure that the fever wouldn't get worse.

* * *

"Charles, where are you?!"

Rooms, rooms, so many rooms. This house was a maze. Erik was running through the Xavier mansion, flinging every door open with his power to have a quick look inside. Charles had disappeared along with everyone else. But Erik didn't care about the students, the doc or Hank. He needed to find Charles but so far there was no trace of him. The silence in the mansion was rather eerie. How was it possible that they had vanished so fast? He couldn't have slept for that long. Right? And he would have heard something and would have woken up. It made no sense at all.

Where did they go? He had to keep looking. Charles had to be here. Suddenly, a voice resounded through the vast corridors and Erik stopped running.

"Erik, please calm down and wake up. You are dreaming."

Dreaming? What was that supposed to mean? And why did that voice sound like Charles'? Erik looked around the hallway, but couldn't see anyone.

"Charles? Where are you?"

Erik shouted and waited anxiously for the answer.

"I'm right here. Next to your bed. Please, open your eyes, Erik."

Well, that was confusing. He wasn't lying in a bed, he was standing in one of the corridors in the mansion. Was Charles messing with his mind? He wouldn't do something like that, would he? All of a sudden, someone took Erik's hand and squeezed it carefully. But when Erik looked down at his own hand, he could see nothing. There was nothing. No one stood next to him, holding his hand and yet...the sensation was still present. This was getting creepier by the minute.

"Wake up, Erik. Open your eyes." the voice was pleading.

It made no sense though. His eyes were already open...hmm...maybe if he closed them...if he was in fact dreaming, it could probably help him to wake up. So Erik closed his eyes and concentrated on waking up.

Suddenly, he noticed that he was lying in a bed, his skin felt hot and his clothes were soaked in sweat. When he opened his eyes and turned his head to the left, he saw Charles sitting in his wheelchair next to the bed, holding Erik's hand.

Oh, so he had been dreaming. He spotted Hank and Serena in the room as well, they both looked slightly worried.

"What happened?" he croaked and had to cough immediately. His throat felt terrible, as if he'd been screaming or shouting.

"You have a fever Erik and you had a nightmare. Several doors in the mansion flew open, then closed and flew open again. It was like a haunted house, the kids got scared. Serena called me, because you wouldn't wake up and you kept screaming my name." Erik didn't know what to say, fortunately Serena started to speak.

"The fever is now under control again, but you have to stay in bed, Erik. As I said before, you're body needs rest to recover."

Erik nodded but didn't look at her. He couldn't avert his eyes from Charles' hand holding his own. It felt...good, reassuring. But...what happened to his hand? One of the telepath's hands was bandaged.

"Now, you should get some rest again. It's the middle of the night. Let's go, Charles." Hanks words made Erik's chest feel tighter. Leave? No, not yet. Charles was about to let go of Erik's hand, to follow Hank out of the room. Erik didn't let him. He gripped his hand and said: "Don't leave."

"Why? What difference does it make if I stay here? You need to sleep."

Erik wanted to tell him about his dream. That everyone had disappeared, that Charles had disappeared, that he had felt utterly alone and scared. The fever was clearly messing with his mind and his feelings. Because being alone had never been an issue before. And now suddenly he felt terrified at the thought of spending the rest of the night alone in this room? This was silly. Erik let go of Charles' hand and said: "You're right."

The telepath was hesitating and looked at him questioningly. Maybe he sensed something, maybe he was trying to read his mind. Although..no. He had once said that he would never get inside his head again. So he probably just saw that Erik felt a bit...off.

"I'll visit you tomorrow and we can play chess, if you're well enough." Charles turned his wheelchair around and steered it towards the door. But before he left the room, Erik said: "I'm sorry, Charles, for what I said to you today. I was caught off guard by my own...I got angry at you..I shouldn't have said those things."

Charles squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath and turned the wheelchair around again, so he could look at Erik.

"But you meant them, didn't you? I pushed you away and I have to pull myself together, right?", Charles said coldly.

"Yes, NO. I didn't mean it that way!"

"Then how, Erik, how did you mean it? Your words were quite clear. I don't think it's possible to misinterpret them", the telepath snapped at him.

Erik didn't know what to say. It was too confusing. He had meant those words...somehow...but only because he had tried to protect himself. He had been vulnerable for a brief moment, crying, feeling...things he wasn't used to...

"You asked me why I was crying, remember... and I couldn't tell you, because I was trying to figure it out myself. And all of a sudden you snapped at me, you told me that I couldn't pull myself together...I got angry, frustrated that I didn't know what happened to me, that I cried in front of you...and that's why I said all those things. I'm sorry, forget that I ever said them."

What was wrong with him?! Did he just say all that...out loud? Judging by the way Charles was looking at him, he did.

Meine Güte! What kind of drugs did they give him? Or was it the fever? He should just keep his mouth shut from now on. That kind of emotional blabbing was unacceptable.

"Did you figure it out?" Charles' voice had lost its edge, he wasn't angry anymore, he seemed curious instead.

Erik looked at him confused and so he repeated his question.

"Did you figure out why you were crying?"

Erik shook his head in response.

He wouldn't speak another word tonight. He didn't trust himself right now. That little monologue before had been embarrassing enough.

"Do you wanna know?"

Erik frowned. Was Charles suggesting to...?

"I could take a look, if you want to know why you were crying."

This was... Didn't Charles tell him more than once that he would never get inside his head again? Why did he change his mind all of a sudden?

And...Should he say yes? But what if he'd been crying because of some weird and embarrassing reason? On the other hand, Charles already knew everything about him, so why not? And somehow he wanted to know why he'd been crying like that, too.

Erik nodded.

* * *

Thank you so much for the reviews so far. I appreciate it. :)


	7. Chapter 7

Charles was not entirely sure if it was such a good idea to enter Erik's mind. He'd sworn to never do that again but his curiosity got the better of him. Erik's behaviour right now was more than just bewildering. Obviously, the fever had a lot to do with it but the way he had been calling Charles' name over and over again whilst dreaming had been heartrending. The desperation, the fear and sadness in his voice had made Charles' heart miss a beat. He had to know what was going on in Erik's head. Even the confession about why he had been so cruel to Charles was way out of character. The great Magneto would have never done something like that, let alone cry in front of him in the first place. So in order to figure out what was happening, Charles had to take a look inside Erik's mind.

When he saw Erik nod, to agree to his suggestion, he got nervous. Could he take it?

What if he found something in there that would destroy him even more?

Something that would hurt him in a way Erik's words would never be able to. Thoughts were pure, uncensored...the truth. Charles took a deep breath before he raised his fingers to his own temple and closed his eyes to concentrate.

Erik's mind was distinct, bright and well organized, just the way it had been twelve years ago. Of course there were more memories now. Dark ones, brutal ones...Charles didn't look at them, he didn't want to see them. It wasn't what he was looking for anyway. It had to be something unusual and it was probably hidden deep inside Erik's mind. So Charles went deeper and suddenly he saw it.

There was a tangled grey mess, like a ball of wires, or steel wool. This chaos was very atypical for Erik's otherwise structured mind. It wasn't hard for Charles to disentangle it, to make sense of what was hidden inside. This had probably been some kind of protective mechanism that Erik had come up with unconsciously. It seemed like Erik had pushed the feelings and thoughts that he didn't understand, into this chaotic ball of metal wires. And he must have done that for quite some time now. There were a lot of confusing little snippets of emotions, almost impossible to identify because they were taken out of context. But there was one overwhelming and prominent feeling and Charles was sure that this was the reason why Erik had been crying today.

The intensity and the sheer rawness of this feeling made Charles gasp as he disentangled the wires to free it. Once freed, it unfolded itself, like a bird would unfold its wings after a long time of captivity and the telepath was now able to look at it more closely.

As incredible as it seemed, this feeling was...longing. Intense and desperate longing for Charles' presence.

The telepath searched for the root of this longing, to understand it, to know how it had ended up in the darkest corner of Eriks mind.

 _Erik missed the time they had spent together before Cuba...no, not just missed...he hopelessly longed for it. This feeling had started to consume him after they had parted ways on that island. Erik needed Charles to be by his side. It was the only way he could feel remotely good about himself. He could be surrounded by ten or even twenty mutants or humans and still feel lonely but not with Charles. He never felt alone when the telepath was close by, he felt at ease and calm. There was no need to pretend, no need to be Magneto. Erik had fought this feeling for years now. He had hoped it would lessen over time but the solitary confinement had made it even worse._

 _He hadn't been able to check on Charles, to see if he was still alive. His greatest fear had been that Charles would die, during the time Erik had to stay in prison and that they would never meet again. He had promised himself that if he would see Charles one more time, he would take him into his arms and never ever let go of him again. But as the years passed, Erik couldn't handle the overwhelming longing anymore, it destroyed him. So his subconscious had started to weave the ball of metal wire around the feelings that were too powerful, too consuming and had hidden it in the darkest corner of Erik's mind. Now all that remained was a mild feeling of melancholy every time Erik thought about the time before Cuba. Although when Erik had hugged Charles today, something inside him had remembered the promise he had made to himself. That was the reason why he'd been crying. Every fibre in his body had been aware that after so many years of waiting and yearning, the promise had finally been fulfilled._

Tears rolled down on Charles' face as he completely dissolved the ball of metal wires. Erik didn't need that anymore, not as long as Charles was around. He would help him with whatever feelings he would come across and couldn't understand. Now that he knew that Erik had missed him just as much as he had missed Erik...he would never leave his side...ever again. They would make it work somehow. Maybe Erik could stay here in the mansion and teach or he could recruit a new (less violent) Brotherhood and train them here, or he could just have his own room here and come and go as he pleased. Whatever he wanted. But he wouldn't allow Erik to disappear again, not when they both knew now that they couldn't live without each other.

Charles sent those thoughts telepathically to Erik and let him know that he had longed for his presence in the same illogical and inexplicable way. But instead of bottling everything up inside his mind, like Erik had done, he had taken it out on himself. Of course he didn't tell him any details about what he had done, that would never happen and it wasn't necessary anyway. Erik understood, he understood everything now.

Charles opened his eyes and withdrew from Erik's mind. He saw that Erik was crying too, but this time they both knew why.

The telepath noticed that Serena and Hank were still standing by the door, staring at them. It must look a bit odd...two men crying, although nothing had been said, nothing visible had happened. Charles tried to smile at them as he said: "I need to stay here for the night. Would it be possible to get a second bed in here?"

Serena nodded and Hank stared at him. As the doctor went out of the room to get the bed, Hank walked over to Charles and whispered: "What happened? Why do you need to stay here? I'm not gonna leave you alone with him."

"I'll explain later but don't worry, Hank. I'm not in danger and I won't do anything stupid. You can go to sleep."

It was obvious that Hank was sceptical and Charles couldn't blame him for that. How many times had he pretended that everything was okay, that Hank shouldn't worry, even though he had just been telling his friend those things to get rid of him, to be alone, to hurt himself? Well...too many times. And so it wasn't that surprising when Hank said: "No, I'm sorry, but I'm gonna stay here. I'll sit over there."

Hank went to a chair that was standing in the right corner of the room and sat down. Charles sighed but he understood his friends reaction. If the roles would have been reversed, he would have done the same.

Serena brought the bed and Charles asked her to put it right next to Erik's. She helped him to lie down on the bed, told him to call her if he noticed that Erik's fever was raising again and then left the room but only after exchanging a look with Hank.

Erik was silently crying. He was still lying on his back but his hands covered his face in an attempt to hide his emotions. Charles knew that this wasn't easy for him. He had dissolved the wires and had set all the feelings free that Erik wasn't used to and now they were overwhelming him. This was why he had to stay here tonight. He had to help Erik to deal with it and of course because he needed it too. To know that Erik wasn't as cold hearted as Charles had thought and that Charles wasn't the only one who had been lost and desperate...It took so much pain away from him...just knowing that he wasn't alone, someone else...Erik!...felt the same way. The telepath took one of Erik's hands and pressed it to his chest. This made Erik aware that Charles was still here and he turned his head to look at him. Charles whispered telepathically in his head: "I won't leave you, Erik. And I ask you to do the same, please, don't leave me again." He saw that these words meant a lot to his friend and his heart missed a beat when he heard him respond with: "I won't go anywhere, Charles."

* * *

So many unfamiliar emotions. Whatever Charles had done to his mind, it felt strangely like relief, like a block of ice had melted and had left only warm and comforting water behind. But in that water floated some long forgotten feelings. He vaguely remembered that he had fought them years ago and had successfully banned them from his mind...or so he had thought. Apparently they were still present and one of them was particularly prominent. With Charles's help he realized that this feeling was the reason why he had been crying today. Longing. Longing for being close to Charles. Ah, he recalled it...the crushing feeling after Cuba that persisted for so many years and had almost drove him mad inside his prison cell in the Pentagon.

Mein Gott, he was crying again! How embarrassing...he buried his face in his hands. But what was that? Charles was saying something to him, sending his own emotions. His old friend knew this feeling, he told him that this was the reason why he had hurt himself over and over again in the past years. He hadn't been able to lock it away like Erik had done it. They felt the same way. That was a good thing, right? Charles wouldn't pity him or laugh at him for this, because he understood. And Erik too, understood now why Charles behaved like that, why it had destroyed him so much.

Suddenly someone took his hand away from his face and he felt a rush of vulnerability. He looked to the side and there was Charles, lying on a bed right next to him. How did that bed get there? But all insecurity and confusion fell off of him, when he felt how Charles placed Erik's hand on his own chest and Erik was able to feel his friends heartbeat. Immediately he felt calm and save, connected and close to the telepath, even more so when he heard Charles' voice inside his head, telling him that he would never leave him and asking him to do the same. And when Erik answered him, that he too, would not leave Charles again, he meant it from the bottom of his heart. They had to stay together this time or it would be their downfall. The past years were clearly proof enough. It couldn't go on like that.

Maybe it was the fever or the new bond between him and Charles, but Erik felt happy...if that was even possible for him. He looked into Charles' eyes and smiled, then closed his eyes and fell asleep. There was no nightmare this time.

* * *

The first thing he noticed when he woke up again was, that he felt much better. The fever seemed to have died down and Charles was still lying next to him. Erik smiled as he looked at his sleeping friend, who was still pressing Erik's hand close to his chest. Everything would be all right now. They wouldn't have any stupid fights or misunderstandings anymore. Erik couldn't believe his luck.

Suddenly he heard voices from the corridor outside and noticed that the door was open. He saw that Hank stood in the corridor just outside the door, talking to someone. He concentrated on the voices, trying to understand what Hank and the other person were talking about.

"I know it's hard when your own parents throw you out of the house for being different. But don't worry you can stay here as long as you want."

The voice that answered Hank sent shivers down Erik's spine. In one second his feeling of happiness changed into hot rage.

"Thank you so much. I appreciate it. I didn't know where else to go."

SPIKE!


	8. Chapter 8

Spike was here.

Here inside the mansion.

How the hell did he find this place?

Did he follow Erik somehow?

No, that can't be.

He had been very careful not to lead anyone to Charles' house.

And...why was he here?

Wasn't he satisfied with destroying the Brotherhood?

Was the school the new target of the military?

But Charles and his students weren't a threat.

It didn't matter though. Whatever reason Spike had to appear here, he wouldn't live long enough to wreak havoc anyway. Erik would see to that.

Charles was still clutching Erik's hand and a part of Erik hated that he had to pull his hand away from Charles chest. To feel his friends heartbeat and body heat, to see how he smiled while sleeping like this...he hated that he had to destroy that moment. But that little snitch Spike deserved to die! Erik pulled his hand away from Charles and got up. Walking towards the door was more difficult than he had thought. His hip hurt like hell, but he pushed the pain aside as best as he could.

"Erik, where are you going?"

Erik closed his eyes, stopped for a second and took a deep breath. The desperation in Charles' voice almost crushed him. He wanted to tell him, that he wasn't about to go away forever... he just had to kill someone in the hallway.

He couldn't say something like that, could he?

So Erik continued to walk to the door and remained silent.

Hank saw him coming and frowned: "You shouldn't walk around."

"Shut up", was the only thing Erik said in response as he stepped into the hallway and looked at Spike. There he was, with a big stupid smirk on his face.

"Oh, hi Magneto, nice to see you again. You don't look so good, man. What happened?"

Without hesitation, Erik punched Spike as hard as he could. He felt immediately better when he heard the other ones nose break but that wasn't enough, not by far. Spike had fallen to the floor but he was still conscious, so Erik grabbed him by his hair and bashed his head repeatedly against the floor. All he wanted was to hear this little maggot's skull break in two.

In the corner of his eye, Erik saw that Hank was about to intervene but he couldn't let that happen. With his power, he looked for something that he could throw at Hank or pin him down with. But suddenly, everything went completely quiet and everyone froze. Hank, Spike, even the children who had been staring at them, they all didn't move, they didn't even blink.

Erik realized that this could only be Charles' work...and...if nobody moved, but he was able to...he could finish Spike without anyone intervening. Was that why Charles had frozen them?

"No, of course not, Erik. What are you thinking? I stopped them so you have time to hide."

Charles was driving towards him in his wheelchair.

"Hide?" Erik looked at him, confused.

"They are here for you."

"They? Who...what's going on?" Erik shouted.

Charles winced and only now did Erik realize how pale he was and how frightened he looked. He tried to calm himself and said a bit softer: "I'm sorry, Charles. Please, I don't understand. What is happening?"

"I saw it in your mind yesterday. I know what happened to the Brotherhood and I know how you got shot. I know who that is", he pointed at Spike, "and I know how badly you want to kill him. But now is not the time. The military is outside. They sent Spike in here to look for you. He is supposed to lure you out, so they can capture you. The whole thing a few days ago had been a set up, yes, but not to destroy the Brotherhood, it had been an attempt to capture you. They want to use your powers, they want to find a way to replicate them. Imagine a platoon made of soldiers who can control metal like you. They would be almost unstoppable in a war. That is why they are so determined to get their hands on you. And if you kill Spike now, they will storm the building and kill everyone in here. I can't let that happen."

Erik let go of Spike's hair and turned around to walk towards the big entrance door. Well...he had to admit that he was not exactly walking...it was more like limping...and he moved very slow.

"What are you doing, Erik?" Charles called after him.

"I'll go outside and tear them apart."

"Come on, Erik. Look at you. You can barely walk. You can't fight them single-handedly, they have those plastic guns and besides, they have a telepath."

"They have a telepath? Why didn't you mention that earlier?" Erik turned around and leaned against the wall. His skin seemed too hot again and he was sweating a lot. He felt defeated and weak. Stupid infection! He wanted to fight, to protect Charles, to get the military as far away from this school as possible but he couldn't even walk properly. Oh, he hated to be so useless.

"Don't worry. He is not powerful, not at all. Spike is the one who figured out that you might be at my house. The telepath is just there to verify that you are in fact in here and to tell the leader what is going on. As I said, if you kill Spike, they will storm in here and do god knows what."

"Did you freeze them too? The military and the telepath?"

"Yes. But we have to hurry now. You need to hide."

"What? I can't hide. First, their telepath will find me and second, I won't hide."

Charles sighed. "Please, Erik. You need to trust me. I have a plan."

Erik wanted to protest again but he felt so drained and dizzy that he simply nodded.

This reaction clearly astounded Charles, because normally Erik wouldn't give in so easily.

"You have a fever again." Charles stated. He looked even more concerned and frightened, now that he realized why Erik was so cooperative all of a sudden.

"All right. Listen to me, I want you to survive this and it's my responsibility to keep the students in this school safe. So please do exactly as I tell you."

Erik nodded again.

"Good then", Charles ran a hand over his face and took a deep breath before he continued, "there is a room on the second floor, only you can find. It's to the right side and the door is hidden under the wood panelling, you can find and open it with your power. Once you're inside, close the door and wait. All right? The telepath can't find you in there, no one can. So stay there! I'll come and get you when everything is over. Now go!"

God, Erik hated it. He hated every bit of that plan so far. To hide...pfff...

"What are you gonna do while I'm hiding."

"Spike is going to tell them that one of your friends from the Brotherhood teleported himself in here and vanished with you to god knows where."

"And you think they'll believe that? Their telepath will know I'm still here."

"As I said before, if you stay in that room, he won't find you."

"What? Is it a magical room?"

"Just go, Erik."

Erik snorted but then he started to walk...no... limp over to the staircase and slowly made his way up to the second floor. He had to manoeuvre around some frozen students but eventually reached the hallway Charles had talked about. He didn't feel that great and hoped that he would find this hidden door before he would pass out. The fight with Spike had probably not been the best idea. The wound on his hip was throbbing and the unbearable heat in his body seemed to come from there. Erik wanted to lie down and sleep, just for a while.

 _"Erik, focus. Find the room."_

Charles' voice was loud and clear inside his head. It startled him. "All right, all right", he mumbled and raised both his hands, one to the right side and one to the left, so he could find whatever was concealed by the wood panelling. Charles had said that he could find it with his power, so there had to be at least a little bit of metal in the hidden door. Suddenly, Erik's eyes widened. A little bit?!

He turned to the left and opened the lock that he had detected underneath the wood panelling. The door swung open, Erik stepped into the room and closed the door again. What he saw in there was overwhelming. He didn't know what to do, except staring at it with his mouth open.

* * *

The minute Charles felt that Erik had stepped into the hidden room, he released everyone. Hank stared at him but realized very quickly that Charles must have had something to do with the fact that Erik was no longer beating up the new student and that he had disappeared completely.

Spike looked frightened and confused. Magneto was gone but some fragile looking man in a wheelchair was in front of him instead. "What the hell...?" was all he muttered. Charles placed two fingers on his own temple and entered Spike's mind. He shielded himself and his actions with ease from the other telepath. It wasn't hard to alter Spike's memory, to plant a new one in there. One where he had seen how a teleporter had appeared in front of them and had taken Magneto with him. When Charles was done, he lowered his hand and tried to look shocked. "What just happened?", he asked Spike, "And why where you two fighting? Do you know each other?"

Spike blinked, opened his mouth and closed it again. He coughed and then said: "I...erm..I don't know what happened...Sorry, but I gotta go."

Spike turned around and stormed out of the entrance door.

"Are you going to tell me what you just did?" Hank asked him and Charles answered telepathically.

 _"Yes, but not now."_

It was too dangerous. Even if the telepath outside wasn't that powerful, he was still able to read minds and if he would find the truth about what happened to Erik in Hanks mind..well..everything would have been for nothing.

Spike had to tell the military that Erik was gone and then they would go away..right? They just had to. There was nothing for them in here anymore.


	9. Chapter 9

Erik blinked, when he noticed that his eyes started to burn. This room was like nothing he'd ever seen. He was looking for words that could describe it, but there was only one that seemed to fit.

Perfection!

This room was perfect.

The symmetry, the high vaulted ceiling, the lancet windows, and the impressive bed in the middle of the room. Each bedpost reached high up and turned into an arch that lead to the opposite wall. But the one thing that made this room so unique and beautiful in Erik's eyes, was that it was completely made out of metal. And not just any metal. It was the same metal that Shaw's helmet had been made of.

Erik would recognize this particular hum of the material everywhere. And hum it did. The whole room was singing a wonderful song, so low-pitched and warm, so peaceful and comforting. Erik wanted to lie down on the bed and simply listen to the melody but his curiosity won. He had to know more about this place.

Erik made some tentative steps to have a closer look. To his right was a wardrobe and he opened the door without touching it, which made him smile a little. There was nothing in this room that he had to touch to move around or to open. It made him feel powerful and calm.

Suddenly, Erik realised why Charles had said that the telepath couldn't find him in here. This room was like a very large version of Shaw's helmet. Even Charles wouldn't be able to communicate with him or read his mind, while he was in here. It was odd, but that last thought didn't make him as happy as it would have made him a day ago. Erik shrugged and continued to explore his surroundings. There were some clothes in the wardrobe and he recognised them. They were his own, though very old and dusty but his nonetheless. Probably the ones he had left behind after Cuba. But why were they in here?

He closed the door again and turned around.

There was a small table on the left side, with a chess board and exceptionally crafted figures on top. There were even two chairs made out of metal and they looked surprisingly comfortable. Behind the bed were the imposing lancet windows and on either side was a bookshelf that reached to the ceiling. Erik felt that every single book had some little piece of metal in its binding, so it was possible for him to access even those on the highest shelves without using a ladder. On one of the shelves was a bottle of his favourite whiskey and two glasses.

It dawned on Erik that this room must have been built especially for him and if there had been a single doubt about that left, it was now erased when he looked closer at the only picture that was hanging on the wall to his right. It was a metal-framed pencil drawing of a woman.

His mother! She was beautiful and the sight of her knocked all air out of his lungs. Erik felt weaker than before and he went over to the bed, where he sat down and continued to stare at his mother's face.

How...?

Why...?

No one except him knew how his mother had looked like and even he had a hard time to remember her face. Who could've...?

Finally, Erik realised that it must have been Charles. He had seen Erik's mother a couple of times, when he had entered his mind. But still...why would Charles memorize how Erik's mother had looked like? And who had drawn it? As far as he knew...Charles wasn't that good at drawing. This was confusing. The existence of this whole room was confusing.

After what had happened the past night, Erik knew now that Charles had missed him...a lot...so could that be the reason why this room had been built? But wouldn't that be a bit excessive? Just because he had missed him...missed him...missed...

Suddenly, it felt like invisible hands were wrapping themselves around Erik's throat, squeezing. The crushing longing he had felt for Charles all those years ago, rushed over him again. It was such an unfamiliar feeling now, he wasn't prepared, wasn't used to it anymore. He had banned it to the back of his mind for so long and Charles had freed it yesterday...but it had felt different yesterday, as if Charles had helped him somehow...helped him deal with the pain of the sudden weight of this desperation that had nearly killed him in the Pentagon.

But now...there was no help and so all those ignored feelings washed over him, raw, unfiltered and without mercy. It felt as if someone punched him in the stomach over and over again. Erik gasped for air. He recognized the hollow feeling inside his ribcage, it was right where his heart was. He knew that it would soon be replaced by a slow burning ache, that wouldn't go away. Erik wanted to scream, to rip his heart out and throw it into the furthest corner. He couldn't go through this again. Not now. Why now? This shouldn't happen now.

He knew that Charles was here, inside the mansion, he was here AND he had promised to never leave Erik... to never make HIM leave. So why did he feel like that again? Charles was just a few steps away. And still, he couldn't take it. The pain and despair...it was too much. Erik let himself fall back onto the bed and stared at the domed ceiling. He moaned as it slowly dawned on him that this metal room wasn't excessive. Not in the least! He would've built a hundred rooms for Charles, if their placed had been reversed!

He would do anything for him!

Erik closed his eyes and sighed.

So why was he hiding in here then? While Charles was outside, trying to fool the military? What if something went wrong? What if they didn't buy this little story about the teleporter? Erik wouldn't notice it in here if the school was under attack, if they stormed in and killed Charles.

He would give Charles 15 minutes for his stupid little plan. If he didn't show up by then, well...the military wouldn't know what hit them. He would take as much metal with him as he could, to use some of it as a shield against their bullets and some of it would serve as weapons. Yes, that sounded like a good plan. He would run out there and destroy them once and for all. He would make sure that Charles was safe, yes, he would keep him safe.

While thinking about how he would take the military out single-handedly, time went by and the fever and the exhaustion were both to blame that Erik forgot to set his plan in motion and soon he drifted to sleep.

* * *

 _"I tell you, it's the truth. A teleporter appeared and took Magneto away. I swear, I don't know where they went. I've never seen that guy before, but he must be part of the Brotherhood. I mean, why else would he come and take Magneto away with him? Right?" Spike tried to make his boss understand what just happened inside the mansion. But they weren't that convinced._

 _"I haven't felt the faintest trace of that teleporter's mind, and yet Magneto is gone. One second he was there and the next...It must be the truth then, but something just doesn't seem right about it", the telepath mused. "Why would he come to get Magneto anyway? I mean, Magneto didn't know about us. He saw you, yes, but you didn't tell him yet why you were there. How did he know that there was danger? Or did the teleporter appear without Magneto's knowledge? Was he abducted by somebody else? Is this just a coincident? Seems a bit odd, doesn't it?" The telepath looked at Spike and frowned. "Did you help him to flee?"_

This didn't go down as he had hoped it would. They doubted the whole thing, they didn't believe Spike. Charles had to act quickly now and he hated himself for that, but it was the only way out of this mess, at least the only way he could think of at the moment. He sat behind the closed entrance door and listened to the minds of those hiding out there. Spike, the telepath, the soldiers and their leader. He knew that he couldn't hesitate now and so he concentrated on Spike's mind again and planted another memory, just a little one this time.

" _You did help him! I can see it now! You told the teleporter yesterday, that he had to get Magneto out of the school. You even told him the exact time. You are a bloody double agent! Was that the reason why you never showed up to our briefings? So you can hide from me? I would've found out the truth about you eventually and you knew that", the telepath was shouting at Spike._

 _The young mutant looked now even more confused. He had the memory, but he couldn't believe it. Why would he betray the military? Why would he help Magneto? This made no sense at all. Was he losing his mind? Was that it? Was he insane?_

 _Suddenly the leader of this little group walked up to Spike and pointed his gun at the mutant's head._

 _"You betrayed us. Because of you, we have once again no idea where Magneto is. Months of hard work and infiltration for nothing. You shouldn't have done that." He shook his head in disapproval and shot Spike between the eyes without hesitating._

Charles stifled a yelp, his shaking hands covering his mouth, eyes wide open in shock.

NO! Oh, NO! What did he do?!

The leader gave the order to retreat and told someone to take Spike's dead body with him. And away they went. Like nothing had ever happened. Except for the blood on the grass between the trees, that was slowly drying.

Spike's blood.

Charles was responsible for his death.

It felt like he had pulled the trigger himself.


	10. Chapter 10

Charles felt Hank's hand on his shoulder and he realized that his friend must have been talking to him for a while now. He had stared at the opposite wall, lost in the pain he had felt, when Spike had been shot. Oh, god! Why did it end this way? Why did that man have to shoot him? That hadn't been necessary.

Hank carefully reached for Charles' wrists and gently pulled at them, to make him take his hands off his mouth.

"Charles? Come on, snap out of it. Please! Tell me what happened? Are you hurt?"

The pleading voice of his friend finally reached him and the telepath swallowed, then closed his eyes and shook his head.

"No, I'm not hurt." Charles was too shaken to say more than that and so he decided to explain it all telepathically.

Hank stared at him when he was done. "But you saved us all. Who knows what they would have done to the school, the kids, if the situation would have escalated. You did the right thing. An army with Magneto's power at its disposal...? It doesn't bear thinking about."

Erik. Yes...

He had to tell Erik that everything was over, that he was safe for now. It began to dawn on Charles that he had told Erik to hide in the metal room. A room only he and Hank had known about..until today. It had been designed for only one person and now this person was inside it. Charles had hoped for so long, that Erik would one day set foot in this room, but he had lost hope for so many things a long time ago. But now...it had happened...not the way he had imagined. He had wished to be by Erik's side when his friend saw it for the first time, but well...at least he was in there now, safe and sound. Not captured by the military, not being experimented on again. That was the only thing that mattered. Erik was here and he had told him that he would never leave again. Could he truly believe that?

He desperately wanted to, of course, but should he do it? Should he hope again? Erik was known for his sudden and radical decisions. What if something like Cuba or Paris happened again? Would Charles be able to pick himself up if Erik shattered his hope a third time?

He felt a panic attack creeping up on him, because the answer to that last question was too devastating. He didn't even want to think those two letters, he wouldn't allow himself to go there. He could feel how his breathing got out of control and he looked at Hank, seeking help. He knew he couldn't beat this on his own, he had never been able to figure out how. Once he had tried to fight it for an hour before he finally passed out. Only Hank was able to stop these attacks. At times it didn't even take him two minutes to do it. Charles had no explanation for that.

He didn't have to tell Hank what was happening to him. Hank knew in an instant that his friend was on the brink of a panic attack. And so he swiftly stepped behind the wheelchair and pressed a hand onto Charles' chest.

"Whatever you are thinking...stop it."

Charles' breathing slowed down immediately and he was able to push those horrid thoughts away. Hank was here and would always be there for him. He had promised him that. And the last two years had been proof enough that Hank was a man who was true to his word. Hank would never leave him. Right?

"I'm not gonna leave you. Stop thinking about that. I told you a hundred times before, I won't go anywhere."

Shit! Did he say it out loud? Or did he send those thoughts to Hanks mind? Charles turned his head and looked at Hank. He didn't even have to say anything. Hank knew exactly what he wanted to ask.

"Yes, you asked me telepathically but judging by the look on your face, I'd say it wasn't your intention to ask telepathically or to ask at all. Am I right?"

Charles nodded absentmindedly. How did that happen? He didn't even recall the connection his mind had made with Hank's.

"Don't overthink this. It happened a lot in the past, remember? This is just another sign that you need to take care of yourself. Food, for instance. I think it would be a good idea to eat something. Let's get Erik and then the two of you should have breakfast."

Charles was about to say that he wasn't hungry but he knew that his friend was right. He shouldn't go back to his old behaviour. If his body suffered, his mind wouldn't be strong enough to keep up the carefully placed shields and that would result in moments like the one before. Thoughts would leak through his shields into other people's minds, without him being able to control what or to whom. He had to admit that he hadn't been that nice to his body in the past few days.

"You're right, Hank", Charles said and they both headed for the hidden room. A few minutes later, the telepath muttered: "I'm...I'm glad you're here."

Hank smiled and it made Charles feel better in an instant. Those smiles, however brief and fleeting they were, had been a rare thing for a long time. Probably as rare as Charles' smiles.

They had reached the hidden door and waited for an opportunity to open it without being seen by anyone. Each of them had a key to this room, the only two that existed, and Hank inserted his key into the small and almost invisible keyhole. Everyone who would walk past by the door, would dismiss the keyhole as a tiny anomaly in the wood.

A few months after Cuba, Hank had the idea to build Cerebro in one of the bunkers beneath the mansion and since Charles had to make the people, who delivered the building materials, forget what they had seen here anyway, he decided to launch a project of his own. And so the various builders created the metal room without knowing what they had done afterwards. Charles made them think it had just been a regular old-building renovation. Of course this didn't go unnoticed by Hank and he had figured out quite soon that the room was being built for one person and one person only. Erik. But Hank hadn't said anything, there was no need to. Charles had had a glimpse into his friend's mind and had seen that he didn't share the hope that Erik would one day come back to the mansion and live here. But he had been glad that Charles had found something to focus on and so he had let him continue without asking any questions about it. Many years had passed since then and Charles had tried to forget the room, because it had been foolish to think that Erik would come back to him.

And now... Erik was in there, he really was. Charles took a deep breath before he steered his wheelchair over the threshold and into the room. Hank came in too and closed the door behind them.

The room looked just like the day he had decided to never enter it again and had turned the key to close the door for good. Back then he had hoped that all his memories of Erik would stay in this room as well, but they didn't, they followed him around, every day, every night. He hadn't been able to escape them, like Erik had done it.

Only the stale air and the amount of dust that had settled on every surface, indicated that no one had entered this room for years. The sight of Erik lying on the bed, tossing and turning, drenched in sweat, stopped Charles' reminiscent mood immediately. He looked inside Erik's mind but couldn't make any sense of what he saw. He was dreaming but the fever turned everything into a distorted and blurred nightmarish scene. _Erik, wake up._ Charles moved closer to the bed and touched Erik's forehead in an attempt to wake him up. He tried to reach his friend telepathically through the thick clouds of the delirium, calling his name, calming his mind, but to no avail. Charles turned around to address Hank: "We have to get him to Serena, as fast as possible." Hank simply nodded, took his glasses off and changed into his blue form, into Beast. Since Charles' wish was, that this room should stay a secret as long as possible, Hank had to carry Erik out of here, and only in his blue form was he able to do that. He was considerably stronger that way and so picking up Erik from the bed and carrying him out of the hidden room and down the stairs to the sick room Erik and Charles had spent last night in, was not much of a challenge. Charles closed the door of the metal room and followed them as fast as he could.

* * *

For two days Hank had watched Charles getting weaker and weaker. Worry and fear were eating the telepath up. He never left Erik's side, he barely ate, drank or slept.

Serena had told them, that she had to use stronger medication now and that Erik would sleep most of the time so that his body had a better chance fighting the infection. She had read them the riot act for letting Erik get up again but come on...who could stop Erik, if he sets his mind on something?

So Charles had stayed with Erik. Lying on the bed next to him, holding his hand. There had been nothing Hank could have done and so he had decided to carry out his duty again. He had abandoned the kids for too long anyway. As long as Charles would stay by Erik's side, Serena would watch over them both and in the breaks between classes, Hank would personally check on Charles. And that was exactly what he would do again in a few minutes.

The students were already excited about the upcoming school trip on the following weekend, and it was hard for them to concentrate. School trips were rare and this one would be a very special one. Hank had planned to take them to a secluded house next to a lake in the woods a three hour drive from the mansion. They would stay there for four days, hiking, swimming, studying wildlife, reading or simply relaxing, enjoying the summer sun.

Hank dismissed them for the day and gathered his documents and books, ready to head out of the room, when a young girl came up to him.

"Is the professor sick? He's not teaching and I saw him with the doctor."

Hank smiled and said: "No, he's not sick. He is just worried because his friend is sick."

"So will he come to the lake house too?"

Oh, there it was again. The same question every time there was a school trip.

Charles had never joined them in the past, but nevertheless, the students seemed to hope for that to change one day. For two years now, Charles had never left the mansion, not once. Except for the time he had spent in the hospital after Hank had discovered what he had done to himself. But other than that...he had always stayed inside.

"I will ask him," Hank said and shrugged, "but don't get your hopes up too much."

The young girl nodded with a sad look on her face and walked away. Hank sighed. It would do Charles good to spend some time with the students outside the class rooms. They loved him. Hank had to convince him to join them on the school trip. The trip was in four days and maybe Erik was feeling better until then, maybe he could come too? Well, those plans had to wait now. He had to make sure that Charles survived the next days, before thinking about the weekend.

He reached the room Erik and Charles were in, he opened the door and stepped inside. The familiar beeping sound of the machines around Erik's bed could be heard, but other than that, it was quiet. Hank hesitated, something was wrong and a second later he realized what it was. Charles' bed was empty. Erik was still lying in his, asleep. Frantically, Hank scanned the room for any signs of the telepath and there he was, lying on the floor between the bed and his wheelchair. The books and documents, Hank had carried around, fell to the floor as he rushed to his friend's side. Charles seemed to be unconscious but there were no visible wounds and Hank shook him gently and called his name. Suddenly Charles' eyes fluttered open and as his vision slowly seemed to clear, he recognized Hank and made a weak attempt to smile at him.

"What happened, Charles?" Hank asked, "and stop smiling, you can't fool me anymore. You're not fine."

Charles took a deep breath before he responded: "I tried to get into the wheelchair but I fainted. That's all. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big...?!" Hank had to stop mid-sentence because right now, he felt like screaming at Charles. How could he be so painfully ignorant when it came to his own health? It was infuriating.

He decided not to start a discussion about it, because it wouldn't get them anywhere. Instead he took action. He lifted Charles up, carefully sat him down in his wheelchair and slowly pushed the wheelchair in front of him, while walking out of the room.

"Hank? What are you doing? I have to stay here!" Charles almost shouted.

"No, you don't. Erik has to fight this on his own. You can't do anything but wait."

"No, you don't understand. I have to be there when he wakes up."

"You won't be anywhere if you don't start to take care of yourself. What do you think Erik would do if he wakes up and finds out you died because you stopped eating while waiting for him to recover?"

Hank saw that those words had an effect on his friend, because he frowned at first and then simply nodded to signal that he had understood. Relief washed over Hank. Now he had found something that would make Charles cooperate.

When they reached Charles' room, Hank headed for the bathroom and pushed the wheelchair inside. Charles opened his mouth to protest but before he could say anything, Hank chimed in: "Believe me, you need a bath and a shave, and before you say anything I won't leave you alone. I'm not gonna risk you drowning in the bathtub, because you fainted."

Charles closed his mouth again and started to take off his clothes but Hank had to help him, because it was obvious that his friend felt already dizzy after taking his shirt off. It wasn't such a strange thing for him. Hank had had to bathe Charles numerous times in the past years but he could tell that Charles still didn't feel at ease with this. He always avoided looking at Hank or at his own body. The gruesome result of his self-destructive actions a year ago, was hard to look at and it made Hank feel guilty. Although he knew that none of it had been his fault but he wished he had been able to prevent it all. Then again...if a telepath wanted to hide something, no one would be able to detect it.

Hank sighed and continued to wash Charles, after he was done, he lifted him out of the bathtub, wrapped him in a big bath towel and carried him to the bed. Charles' eyes were already closing and by the time Hank had laid him down onto the bed, he was fast asleep. That was a good thing. It gave Hank time to go downstairs to the kitchen, to prepare some food, without worrying what Charles might be up to while he was gone.

Soon he returned with a tray and on it was a plate full of steaming rice and vegetables and a cup of tea. The sight of Charles sleeping peacefully was so calming and rare that he considered to let him sleep, but only for a second, because Charles really needed to eat something.

Hank woke him up and helped him put on some comfortable pants and a shirt. And when Hank put the tray in front of Charles, he was surprised that his friend took the fork into his shaking hand and started to eat without any further protest or hesitation. After the meal, Charles fell immediately asleep again. Hank stayed and watched over him, smiling. Maybe Erik's appearance turned out to be a good thing after all. Now he just had to survive this infection. Hank couldn't care less for Erik but if he died, it would destroy Charles for good.


	11. Chapter 11

_'I look where no one dares and I stare where no one stares, and when the night is nigh, death sings your lullaby...' or something along those lines. He couldn't remember the last bit...probably because it was boring. Well, who said you couldn't alter poems? His version was much more fun. Where did he read that shit anyway? There were so many books in this house... maybe you catch knowledge like a cold, if you spend too much time in here. He sneered, whilst standing in a corner of the room, watching the professor and Magneto without being noticed._

 _Besides, every awesome killer had some kind of obsession, right? Art, literature, poetry...He could pick one too. Poetry would be nice, his sister liked poetry. He could recite a poem or two next time he'd see her again. She'd like that._

 _Uh, oh...he had to pay attention now, maybe it would finally get interesting._

 _He had been watching the professor and Magneto for a couple of days now. He had started his observation just after he'd heard what had happened to Spike, to be precise, but nothing of importance had occured so far. Of course he had gathered some information but he needed more, something else, something that would help him and especially his sister. For the last two days it had been boring as hell. Magneto had been sleeping and the professor had been worried about him and guess what...sleeping too. Fun! But the metal bender had been awake for half a day now...though, nothing worth mentioning had happened. He still hoped that they would talk about something he could use...for once!_

"Serena says I should join her, Hank and the students on the school trip. She said that it would help me recover. And since she wants to keep an eye on me..."

"Oh, don't bother, Erik. I know they try to make me go. And they know that if you go, I go too."

"So what do you think? Should we go?"

"I don't know. It would probably aid your recovery."

 _Another boring conversation!_

"Good, then it's settled. We'll go."

 _Silence. More staring into each other's eyes as if they hadn't done that the whole morning. It was embarrassing really. Were they friends, were they lovers? What the fuck was going on?_

 _They weren't communicating telepathically, because the professor wasn't touching his temple. Ha! He had detected that already. Though that wasn't really knowledge he could use, convenient to know but...He shrugged._

 _Oh, come on!_

 _Talk to each other, but please not about the school trip or the gunshot wound._

 _He was about to run out of patience when they finally started to talk about the metal room he had seen a few days ago. He had been wondering about that room. What was its purpose? Uh...he was really excited now._

 _The professor had built this room because he'd thought that Magneto would one day come back to him and live here. He had designed it like Shaw's helmet and with the same material, so that Magneto would feel safe. This way he could be absolutely sure that neither the professor, nor any other telepath would be able to reach him in there. More privacy was probably impossible._

 _Oh my! That was exactly what he'd been waiting for. This room was telepath-proof. That would come in handy._

 _Now they were talking about some kind of drawing inside the room. How the professor had made some woman draw it and how he'd erased her memory about that afterwards. Blabla..booooring!_

 _What was that?_

 _Seriously?_

 _Are you kidding me?_

 _The great Magneto was crying?_

 _Hahaha...If his cursed boss could see that now!_

 _He was always telling them that they had to be careful, that Magneto was very dangerous. But...right now...this dangerous man seemed more like a puppy than a hellhound. Aaaand now they hugged._

 _Jeez!_

 _It was all weird. They didn't hug like friends and they didn't hug like brothers. It seemed desperate, like there was no time left, like the other one could die this very moment. Suddenly it began to dawn on him and he started to smile._

 _'Oh, I see..' he thought, 'THIS is of use.'_

* * *

Standing inside a beehive but not belonging to the bees was just like Erik felt today. Students were running to and fro, carrying bags and backpacks to the buses, laughing and shouting. Hank had told him that they had gotten excited about previous school trips but this time it had reached a new level, because they saw that the professor would join them. Though Charles seemed not too psyched about the whole thing. He smiled at the children but Erik saw that he felt uneasy, awkward and self-conscious. Erik went over to him and placed a hand on his friends shoulder. Charles turned his head around and looked at him, frowning. Erik grinned and said: "You look like you're waiting for your execution."

"Really, that obvious? I thought I was rather good at hiding it."

"Oh, yes, you are. But you can't fool me. You haven't been outside for two years... believe me, I know how it feels. To be outside again... It's frightening and liberating at the same time."

"Well, I guess I have to leave the mansion one day, so why not now, right? And it's only for four days. I'll survive." It sounded more like a question than a statement and so Erik responded: "Of course you will."

He would make sure that no harm would come to Charles.

When Hank had tried to convince Erik to persuade Charles to join them on the school trip, he had told him about the students, about how they loved the professor and how they missed him every time they went on a school trip or an excursion without him. Erik couldn't care less about the students. The only reason why he had agreed to all of this, was that he wanted to fix Charles. He knew he couldn't fix his friend's body of course, but maybe he could fix his mind. He could try it at least. Charles had saved his life by deluding the military. But even if he talked himself into believing that Charles had done that to save only the students, he still owed him. And besides, there was that room...No one had ever done anything for him without asking something in return. But Charles had built an entire room for him. He had made someone draw Erik's mother...that was...

Thinking about it still overwhelmed him. He couldn't name all the new emotions that were coursing through him. He didn't recognize any of them. But they had replace the burning ache inside his chest with warmth. Erik squeezed his eyes shut, trying to control his feelings. He had to make Charles feel better again. Not just because Hank had asked him to do so. It was his own desire now.

"Are you all right, Erik?"

Erik's eyes snapped open again and he nodded.

"They are ready to go. We have to get into the bus."

* * *

 _He smiled and waved as the buses drove off._

 _'Good bye! Enjoy your holiday...as long as you can.'_

 _Standing in front of the big entrance door, holding Hank McCoy's keys, he had a chuckle to himself. Oh, how he loved to be invisible!_

 _With the help of those keys, not a single door inside the Xavier mansion would be a problem for him. But there was only one room he was really interested in. The metal room._

 _Now, it was time to get to work!_

* * *

The excerpt of the poem I used in the beginning is called "Daisy's song" by John Keats. I changed the ending. Original: "and when the night is nigh, lambs bleet my lullaby."


	12. Chapter 12

"You ask him."

"No, you!"

"I won't ask him, he's scary. Why do you wanna ask him anyway? It's Magneto. Did you forget what we saw about him in the news?"

"The professor isn't afraid of him. Maybe all the things they said on the TV are wrong."

"Of cooouurse, they even faked the video footage. You're so naive."

"I'm not. The professor wouldn't allow him to join us on our school trip, if he was truly evil."

"Well then, ask him."

"All right, I will."

Charles sat in his wheelchair and enjoyed the warmth of the evening sun. Erik sat next to him in a deck-chair. They both watched some sort of game the students had come up with. It looked like water polo but since some of the students had powers that would allow them to win rather easily, they had to bend the rules quite a bit. It was fun to watch and Charles was glad that he had joined them on this trip, even if he felt exhausted most of the time and had to sleep a lot. Manoeuvring the wheelchair outside and in a house he didn't know, was a challenge. He had forgotten how much strength it demanded from him to get in and out of the chair so many times. He wished he had done more for his upper body muscles in the past year. Charles didn't like to be so dependent on others but there was no other option at the moment. He always needed Hank or Erik to lift him in and out of the chair. Even if he had needed Hanks help in the past years for almost everything, it was still humiliating. That's why he had decided to stay in the wheelchair this time, rather than lying on a deck-chair as well. He made a mental note to himself that he had to get stronger again.

Suddenly two teenage students, a boy and a girl, were hesitantly approaching them. No, they were approaching Erik, to be exact. The girl seemed to summon all her courage and said:

"Erm...We are gonna play water polo against the teachers and they are one player short. They told us to find someone who would play on their team. Would you...erm...maybe...play?"

The girl looked like she was ready to run away any minute, though her friend, who was hiding behind her, seemed even more nervous, if that was possible. Charles couldn't hide a smile when he saw how dumbfounded Erik was. The metal bender just stared at the kids, frowning. Charles tried to imagine how it would look like if Erik played water polo but all his mind came up with was a picture of an annoyed looking shark surrounded by cute little ducklings and he burst out laughing. He decided to help his friend out and said to them: "Erik isn't a great fan of water polo. Have you asked Serena yet? I'm sure she'd like to join the teachers team. She's in the house."

The student's nodded and almost ran towards the house, eager to get away from Erik. Charles couldn't stop smiling. Erik mumbled something that sounded like 'thanks' and tried to hide the lingering confusion. "You're welcome. You're mind was screaming for help so loudly it was impossible to ignore it."

"Why would they even ask me? I mean...don't they know who I am?"

"Oh, they do. The boy didn't want to ask, he was afraid of you but she thought that I wouldn't spend so much time with you, if you were a monster."

Charles caught a glimpse of an old memory fluttering through Erik's mind. A bar in Argentina, three dead men and the words 'I'm Frankenstein's monster'. Charles shook his head. "She's right, you know...I wouldn't let you stay here if you were a monster."

Erik looked at him for a brief moment, nodded but said nothing and then watched the ongoing water polo game again.

Charles noticed with a quick glance into his friend's mind, that Erik didn't share his opinion but his mind responded to Charles's words with a wave of affection. It was a contradiction. To know that he was a monster but to feel so good that Charles had said he wasn't one...It confused Erik. And Charles knew that his friend was pondering over that now, instead of paying attention to the game. When the teacher-student match began, Charles was able to distract Erik by telling him what kind of mutation each teacher had but soon they were both captivated by the game. It was surprisingly exciting. The teachers were better than Charles had expected, though the students won in the end.

* * *

The moon was shining bright in the night sky and the soothing sound of the crickets around the lake lulled everyone to sleep. Everyone except Charles. He had slept for a few hours in the afternoon and so he wasn't tired yet. Today had been the third day at the lake. 'Yes, it had been a good idea to come', Charles thought again while slowly driving around the lake in his wheelchair. He enjoyed the quiet of the night and liked to look at the house from a distance, knowing that everyone in there was save and happy. Erik was still awake, reading and waiting for him to return. He didn't like it that Charles was alone outside but the telepath had told him that he needed this and so Erik had accepted it grudgingly. They shared a room and just like back at the mansion they had pushed their beds together so that they could be as close as possible to one another. Erik never went to sleep without Charles lying next to him, he always waited until the telepath was back from his night excursion. Charles smiled when he noticed that Erik was reading the same sentence over and over again, not really able to concentrate on the book in his hands. He was still worried, just like the two nights before. He really didn't like that Charles was alone outside. Though it had to be. The telepath wanted to feel at least a bit independent now and then.

Suddenly Charles felt as if someone or something was standing close by, doing something to his wheelchair but he couldn't feel another mind and saw nothing out of the ordinary. There was no human, mutant or animal, not even a plant that had entangled itself in the wheels, nothing. But nevertheless, he couldn't move his chair anymore. He hadn't time to ponder about it for too long though, because soon his chair started to move again, but of its own accord and very fast. To his horror the wheelchair rolled towards the lake and fell, with him still in it, over the small cliff and into the water. As he fell, Charles managed to call for Erik telepathically before he plunged into the water, hit his head on a stone and passed out.

* * *

'Erik...'

He heard his own name inside his head. Only once and it sounded like it was supposed to be more than just his name in this message. But somehow Charles hadn't been able to get the whole thing through to him. Not good!

Erik got up as fast as he could and ran out of the house towards the lake. He knew that Charles had to be close to the lake. When the telepath had wanted to go outside alone for the first time, Erik had made him pick a route and stick to it, so he would always know where to look if he had to find him. He was glad that he'd done that, because his friend wasn't responding. Erik shouted Charles' name, both inside his head and out loud, while running along the shore, looking frantically for any sign that would lead him to Charles. Suddenly he saw the wheelchair lying in the water close to a small cliff but Charles was nowhere to be seen. As fast as he could, Erik ran to the cliff and climbed down to the water. It wasn't that deep here, which explained why the wheelchair didn't sink completely. Erik waded further into the water and then he saw him.

"Charles!", he shouted while running towards the unconscious man, who was lying in the shallow water of the lake. Charles must have hit his head on one of the stones that stuck out of the water, was Erik's thought when he saw the bruise on his friends head. Aside from that, there was no other visible injury and Charles was still breathing, which set Erik's mind at ease, at least for now. He had to get him into the house and out of these wet clothes, the water was colder than he had expected. Erik hurried to get inside, carrying Charles all the way, with the wheelchair floating behind them. When Erik reached their room, he lay Charles carefully down onto the floor and started to peel off his friend's clothes and at the same time checking for any broken bones. Charles' upper part of the body seemed fine but when he took off the pants, Erik's eyes widened in shock. There were no broken bones, but Charles' legs were...they were...

Erik had seen a lot of injuries in his time, especially at the concentration camps. He had seen something similar once but not on this scale. If that was what Hank had been referring to...If that was what Charles had done to himself...

Erik just stood there, unable to move, unable to do anything than stare at Charles' legs. He didn't notice that Charles woke up, that he stared at him with a similar shocked expression on his face. But that expression changed soon into an angry one.

"Erik..." the telepath growled and Erik turned his head to look at him.


	13. Chapter 13

"What are you doing?" Charles growled at him.

It wasn't easy to return Charles' look, because there was so much pain and shame visible in his eyes, even though he tried to hide it all behind a mask of anger. But if there was one thing Erik knew like the back of his hand, it was anger. And so it was obvious to him that this was a simple defence mechanism.

"You fell into the lake and I rescued you. I carried you inside and took off your wet clothes. That's all. Now tell me, what exactly happened to your legs?"

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, but it is. If that's what Hank's been referring to...if that's what you did because of me...that makes it my business."

"I'm not gonna talk about it, all right. Now get me some clothes, please."

Erik took a deep breath and slowly shook his head. "No, Charles."

"What..?"

"No. You are gonna explain this to me. Here. Now."

"Are you deaf? I said: I do not want to talk about it. It is all in the past now. What good will it do, if we talk about it. I did something to my legs..so what?"

"Oh, so it doesn't bother you at all? I don't believe that. You can't even look at your legs."

"Erik..."

"NO! Look at them, Charles! Touch them! Look at your legs and tell me you're fine, that all this doesn't bother you, that you are okay with it! Do it!" Erik shouted in frustration. He couldn't accept this. He had to know what happened. Charles had shown him days ago that he had missed him too, that he had done things because of these confusing feelings but...could this really be one of the things he had done?

Charles pushed himself up a bit and leaned on his left elbow. He looked at his legs with determination, though it was obvious that it wasn't easy for him. Erik saw expressions of disgust and anguish flit across Charles' face by turns as he reached out for one of his legs. But then he stopped. His right hand trembled and hovered just above the skin. Suddenly he let his arm fell to the side and started to pant as if he'd just run a marathon.

"See! You can't even touch them. Now explain it to me. What did you do and why?"

There was no response. Charles didn't even look at Erik, he stared into space and his breathing got even faster.

"Charles? What is wrong with you?"

Erik frowned.

This didn't look so good. It reminded him of the panic attack the telepath had had back at the mansion on the second night Erik had spent in the sickroom.

Was this a panic attack then? And if so...what was he supposed to do?

Charles couldn't hold himself upright any longer. His left arm was too weak to remain in that position for more than a few minutes. He had to lay down again. But because he was suffering from a panic attack, his movements were too fast, too jerky and so the back of his head collided with the floor. The dull throbbing pain he had felt behind his eyes after he'd woken up, exploded now and made him whimper.

Erik was at a loss. He tried to remember what Hank had done to calm Charles down but he couldn't focus his mind. Eventually he acted on instinct. He sat down on the floor right next to the telepath and carefully lifted him up into a sitting position. He pulled Charles close to his chest and wrapped his arms around him from behind. Charles head was leaning against Erik's left shoulder, eyes closed in pain, still breathing too fast.

Erik whispered into his ear: "Calm down, Charles. I need you to calm down."

"I can't...I can't..."Charles stammered, "you..you saw my legs. You weren't supposed to see them...you shouldn't have..."

Charles began to breathe stertorously as if he was about to suffocate which made Erik even more nervous. Why wasn't Charles able to calm down?! Suddenly Erik remembered something he had seen Hank doing in that night at the sickroom and he immediately pressed the palm of his hand against Charles' chest, hoping that this might help somehow. To his surprise, it did. Charles began to breath deeper, less frequent and seemed to relax in his arms. But soon he started to shiver, since he was only wearing shorts and had sweat a lot during the panic attack. Erik lifted him up and carried him to his bed. There he arranged the cushions in a way he could sit upright and hold Charles the same way he had held him while sitting on the floor. Erik pulled the blanket up under Charles' chin and soon the telepath stopped shivering.

"Now that you're calm again...explain it to me."

Charles moaned: "Erik... just let it go."

"No, I can't do that. I need to know. And if you're afraid that you might lose me again, that I would walk away after you told me...don't be. I won't leave you, I promise."

Erik heard his friend sigh and then, with a quavering voice Charles began to talk: "I missed you and I didn't understand why. I mean...you're the reason I can't walk, you're the reason Raven left me, then you tried to kill her, then you buried me under stone and metal, and yet I still missed you so much it hurt. After all that...how could I still long for your presence so intense that I wasn't able to eat or sleep? It was madness. I couldn't cope with it. Because I couldn't sleep I began to drink myself into oblivion, but Hank helped me to stop. Then I manipulated his mind to hide that I wasn't eating anymore and that I...that I...I flayed myself. I used a scalpel...I don't know where I had that from, probably stole it from Hank...and I cut and ripped the skin off my legs. Everyday a bit more. I couldn't reach the back of my thighs, that's why the skin there is still intact but everywhere else...well you saw it... It didn't hurt, obviously... I ignored the wounds, I didn't disinfect or bandage them, so they got infected. I continued to hide it from Hank but one day, the fever was so high I couldn't do that anymore. My mind and my body...they.. lay in ruins. I almost died. Hank got the shock of his life, when he came to my room one day and I wasn't able to trick his mind into seeing a healthy version of myself as usual. He called an ambulance and they saved me at the hospital. I got better but when they wanted to transfer me to a psychiatric clinic, I had to alter their minds a little so that Hank could get me out of there and back home. I had to make all kinds of promises to Hank though before he agreed to drive me back to the mansion. And I swear, I never broke those promises...until you stumbled back into my life."

Erik didn't know what to say. This was...

He had suspected something like that, since he had seen similar scar tissue before but it was still hard to listen to it, to hear Charles say it out loud, for it to be real...

Erik hugged Charles even tighter. From now on he would protect Charles from anything that would hurt him, including himself..especially himself! He would be more careful with his power when the telepath was around. He paralyzed him, crushed him under debris...everything due to him using his power...Who knew what would happen next? In the future, Erik would always make sure that Charles was far away before he would use his power. This way he could be sure that the telepath was at least safe from him.

Charles interrupted Erik's train of thought when he spoke inside his head to him:

 _'No, Erik. You shouldn't do that. Your power, it's a part of you, it belongs to you. When I used the serum to walk again my power was gone. Remember how you felt about that? And now you want to suppress yours? Don't do that, please.'_

But I am afraid of hurting you, Erik thought, I caused you enough pain already. You flayed yourself, for fuck's sake!

 _'Yes, I did that. But you have to understand, that I didn't do it because you hurt me, but because I didn't understand my own feelings. I was lost inside my head the same way you were. Do I have to remind you of the night you broke your hand? Inside the prison cell in the Pentagon, you had nothing else to do than think. You missed me so much and it confused you. One night you lost it and you banged your fist onto the wall over and over again until your hand broke. You screamed for ten minutes, then the guards came to sedate you and get a doctor to take care of your hand. That wasn't my fault, right? Just as my actions weren't your fault.'_

Erik hated to think about that night. He didn't like to lose control and that night he had lost every shred of control he had ever possessed. But he saw Charles' point and understood why he had shown him that memory right now. Charles wasn't responsible for his broken hand and Erik wasn't to blame for Charles' scarred legs.

"You're right", Erik said out loud. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For telling me what you did."

There was no answer, instead Charles squeezed Erik's arm and nestled up against him.

"By the way, why did you decide to go for a swim in the middle of the night?"

"mmmhhh...can we talk about that tomorrow..?" Charles mumble, already dozing off.

Since Erik had insisted on getting an answer from Charles quite forcefully the last time, he decided to wait for this one until the next day. The main thing was that the telepath had survived the fall and that he was inside the house again, safe and sound.

When Erik was sure that Charles was fast asleep, he climbed out of the bed, hung up Charles' wet clothes in the bathroom and walked to the wardrobe. There he opened the second bag he had brought with him on this holiday. In it was his Magneto outfit. The holes where the two bullets had pierced it, were still visible. So was the blood, though now dry. But the object he was looking for was lying underneath. Erik stretched his hand out and held it over the bag. Slowly the object found its way out from under the clothes and collided with Erik's palm. A shudder went through Erik's body when he felt the unique metal of the helmet respond to his power immediately. Even though he really liked being close to Charles again, letting him look inside his head, letting him talk to him telepathically, just like they used to do before Cuba,...it was too close at times. Somehow he missed the solitude. It was strange. Erik had been isolated and alone for ten years and he had hated every second of it but now...being around people for too long made his skin crawl.

Erik turned around and looked at Charles, who was still asleep. Then he pulled the helmet over his head and walked out the door. He wouldn't be away for long. He just had to be completely alone for a few minutes. He needed to think, without the possibility of anyone dropping by, reading his mind. As Erik walked towards the forest that surrounded the house and the lake, he allowed himself to think about everything that had happened in the past days. Charles had almost died because he had missed him so much. Erik himself had almost lost his mind because he had missed the telepath so much. Where did that leave them? They had to stay together...Erik wanted to, but what about the Brotherhood? If there were any survivors, he had to go and look for them and...yes, then what? He had to tear down that cursed branch of the military who had spied on the Brotherhood and killed so many of them, just so they could get to him. They couldn't get away with that. And according to Charles, they had a telepath, not a very powerful one, but still...he had to be extra careful with his next attack. It had to be a good plan, a subtle one. Even if he wanted to break up the Brotherhood and stay at the mansion with Charles, he had to make sure that those bastards wouldn't come looking for him again.

The moon was still shining in a cloudless sky, allowing Erik to walk through the woods without stumbling over roots, or losing his path. But not even the light of the moon could've shown him the danger that was lurking behind the trees. Someone was waiting for him, smiling, slowly drawing nearer until the invisible figure stood right behind him, inserting a plastic needle into the metal bender's neck.

Erik felt his body go limb and he couldn't do anything against it. As he fell to the ground, he heard someone laugh and say:

"Thanks for wearing the helmet, Magneto. Now I don't have to worry about your boyfriend finding out about me too soon. That would spoil everything, since the fun is only about to start."


	14. Chapter 14

Bright lights, too bright.

The second he had opened his eyes, he had to shut them again.

Where was he?

The cold and hard surface underneath him told him that he couldn't be in the forest anymore. And such white blinding light could never emanate from the sun, let alone the moon. He tried to map out the room inside his mind by using his power but much to his surprise, he couldn't. Either there was no metal whatsoever within a very wide radius, or he had lost his abilities altogether. A strong and too familiar feeling washed over Erik. Fear. And yes, he was capable of being afraid. He would probably never admit it, but the years inside the plastic prison had changed him and had fostered a particular fear. The fear of losing his power. He had been cut off from metal for so long that in the end, he had almost believed that his ability to manipulate metal was gone. He had been so relieved when he had stepped out of that elevator inside the Pentagon and was immediately able to feel all the metal around him once again.

So yes, fear was creeping up on him. Because he couldn't be inside his Pentagon cell again, right? And that meant his power was gone.

Erik opened his eyes once more. The light was as bright as before but it didn't hurt that much anymore. Though still squinting, Erik could see that he was inside a room with high walls and a domed ceiling. Something about it seemed familiar. Carefully, Erik stood up and was relieved that he wasn't hurt and there were no shackles around his ankles or wrists. Aside from the painfully bright light, there was nothing out of the ordinary inside...Erik's heart skipped a beat...the metal room! He was inside the metal room Charles had built for him. Why the hell couldn't he feel the metal? Why couldn't he use his power? Erik started to pant for air and soon felt lightheaded and dizzy. He sat down, leaned against the wall, closed his eyes and willed his breathing back to normal. Now was not the time to hyperventilate, he had to find a way out of here. How did he end up in here anyway?

As soon as Erik felt better again, he got up and went to the door. It was locked and there was no key and without his power working, he wasn't able to open it. What was going on?

Walking around, looking for a key, clues, anything, he tried to remember what had happened in the woods. He had been alone there and no one, not even an animal was able to sneak up on him. Though he had a faint memory of a sharp pain in his neck and someone talking to him, before he had passed out. Could this be a move of the military? Did they find out that he hadn't left the mansion and then followed him to the lake house? But why attack now? He had been alone in the woods around the lake before? Why wait for three days? No, no, nothing made sense. They wouldn't bring him here? A room made of metal?! But then again, he couldn't use his power. Did they do something to him? Was this some kind of joke? Let's take Magneto's power away, put him inside a room full of metal and then laugh at him? Except, there was no one laughing, he was alone. Alone!

He had wandered into the forest to be exactly that, alone, but not like this. No! He had just wanted to enjoy a few minutes of solitude to clear his mind, before going back to the room he shared with Charles and lying down next to him.

Charles...Only now Erik realized that his helmet was gone, but it made no difference, Charles wouldn't be able to reach out for Erik's mind telepathically in this room. There was no way to communicate with him. Isolated, alone, no power..no,no,no,not again. Please not again!

His eyes had adjusted to the brightness enough for him to be able to inspect the ceiling and make out the source of the light. Several spotlights had been attached to the arches and the ceiling, as well as some cameras. So someone was watching him then? But why? Erik stared at one of the cameras and shouted: "Who are you?! What do you want?!"

There was no answer, instead the lights went off and the room was completely dark. Erik couldn't see a thing and realized that the windows must have been boarded up or something alike, because even from that direction there was no light whatsoever. He sharpened all of his senses to be able to ract quickly if someone tried to sneak up on him. Erik was ready to attack anyone who'd dare to enter this room but no one came. The bright lights were turned on again, blinding him anew. Suddenly he noticed that it was getting warmer and warmer as if the heating had been turned up.

As minutes went by and the temperature was still raising, Erik took off his shirt, shoes and socks. It didn't help at all. He was still sweating so much, he could see small drops of sweat occasionally falling to the metal floor around him. "What do you want?!" Erik shouted at one of the cameras again, feeling helpless. The light went off and Erik immediately tensed. Would someone enter the room now? He listened for the door to make as sound as it swung open but the only thing he heard was his own breathing. And just as his eyes had adjusted to the darkness around him, the lights were turned on again. Erik tried to minimize the sharp pain that the sudden white light invoked behind his forehead, by pressing his palms against his closed eyes, waiting for them to get used to the brightness once again.

Due to the excessive sweating and the dry heat inside this room, Erik's mouth felt as dry as sandpaper and when he spotted a bottle of water next to the bed, he walked towards it with only one thought inside his mind. Thirsty. But then he stopped. What if that water was poisoned? What if they had turned up the heating only to make him drink that water? Erik hesitated. He was so thirsty! The bottle was still sealed but that didn't mean a thing. Someone could have resealed it after putting something inside, or injected the substance with a thin needle, leaving only a small and almost untraceable hole behind. No, he wouldn't risk it. He had worse. To endure thirst was not that hard. He could do it. And in the meantime, he would find a way out of here. He had to!

* * *

Hank was dreaming and it was a very pleasant dream. He wasn't blue anymore and didn't have to rely on the serum to appear normal. Walking through the streets of a big city, feeling perfectly happy. Hank passed by some beautiful women, who were definitely checking him out. He smiled at them and thought to himself that this was the best day of his life. And then it all changed. His dream world crumbled, everything broke apart and he somehow ended up sitting in the middle of a barren wasteland. A devastating feeling of loneliness and abandonment was crushing him. Hank's body seemed to be unable to decide what to do. He felt like he was either choking, about to throw up, or passing out. How could anyone feel all those things at the same time? And then it hit him.

Charles! Hank's eyes snapped open, wide awake in a matter of seconds. He recognized this. Yes, this was undoubtedly Charles projecting. He really hoped that the telepath had only projected this onto him and not onto the students as well. Hank scrambled out of bed, noticed absentmindedly that the sun was already shining and ran towards Charles and Erik's room. It was not that far away, in fact, it was right next to his room. He hadn't been very happy about them sharing a room, since he still didn't trust Erik. Even though Charles seemed better and Hank had to admit that Erik's presence had a lot to do with it, he still didn't trust that man. He never would. And that projection right now was probably proof that Erik could never be trusted. Why else would Charles feel so utterly abandoned again? Or had the telepath simply been dreaming about losing everyone? No, it had been too intense for that, it still was.

When Hank entered Charles' room, he saw nothing out of the ordinary at first. The telepath was sitting upright in his bed, unharmed and completely still. Erik was nowhere to be seen, his bed untouched. Did he leave yesterday and didn't sleep in it at all? Or did he make the bed in the morning before he left?

"Charles?" Hank touched his friends shoulder and squeezed it carefully. "Charles, what is going on? You are projecting."

Charles turned his head and looked at him with such despair that Hank felt as if his own heart had been stabbed. Then his friends face distorted and he groaned. Charles was still projecting his feelings and so Hank felt the sudden change in his own body too. As quickly as he could, Hank lifted Charles out of bed, carried him to the bathroom and set him down on the floor next to the toilet. It was in the nick of time. As Charles threw up into the toilet, Hank held him and sighed in relief because luckily for him, the telepath had stopped projecting. When it was over, Charles was exhausted. He leaned back into Hank's arms and said: "He's gone, Hank. I can't find him."

Hank carried Charles back to the bed and asked: "Why would he leave? Didn't you say that everything was fine between you two now?"

"That is the thing, Hank, I don't know...I don't know why he would leave. He told me that he would never do that to me again...or to himself for that matter. And I was thorough this time, I looked into every corner of his mind to find proof that he was lying to me, but there was none. He couldn't have tricked me. His promise to stay had been genuine. Something must have happened to him."

"You said that you can't find him telepathically, right?" Hank said, walking to the wardrobe. He opened the door and rummaged through the two bags that were lying in there. "His helmet is gone. I think that's the reason why you can't find him. I'm sorry, Charles, but..."

"No, Hank. I can't believe that. He wouldn't walk away, not like that, not now."

"How can you be so sure? If he's wearing the helmet...who knows what's going on in that head of his?"

"NO! I refuse to believe that. Please, Hank, we have to find him. Maybe he went for a walk and something happened to him. Maybe he's just somewhere in the forest, injured and unable to walk or to call for help. Maybe he's unconscious."

Hank sighed. He didn't believe that, but he knew that hope, even if it was false hope, was better for Charles than facing the horrible truth. Hank feared the moment his friend would realize that Erik had betrayed him again. It would shatter Charles to pieces and this time, Hank wasn't sure if he would be able to save him.

* * *

 _It was so much fun, he thought, seeing the great Magneto reduced to this. To watch him as he struggled to hold on to his sanity, strength and pride. Haha..but there was even more fun in store for him. The real torture hadn't begun yet. The light and temperature treatment was only the beginning, to wear him out, to bring him to the brink of exhaustion. He had to admit that this was a bit excessive. It probably would have been enough to rough Magneto up and take photos to reach his goal, but hey, he hadn't had that kind of fun in a long time...so he was inclined to cut himself some slack._

 _The invisible man glanced at the monitors in front of him._

 _Well, well, by the look of it, his prisoner was ready for step two. After enduring ten hours of his special treatment, Magneto was so sleep-deprived and on edge that the second act would have the desired impact._

 _Oh, how he was looking forward to this!_


	15. Chapter 15

Sleep!

Sleep was all he needed, wanted...to close his eyes, to drift away...but he couldn't. Every time he was about to fall asleep, the light was turned on or off again and to make things worse, the temperature inside the room changed at irregular intervals. Either it was incredibly hot or so cold that his teeth would chatter. It was impossible to sleep that way. In the beginning, he didn't mind. He wouldn't allow himself to succumb to sleep anyway, since he still had no clue who was holding him captive, so he had to stay alert. But now... It felt like his brain was quivering inside his skull, his eyes were burning and he had a hard time to focus on one thought. They were all just flying through his mind in perfect chaos.

It started to get hot again and Erik took off his shirt, shoes, socks and even his pants for what felt like the hundredth time. It was better this way, because he didn't want to wear clothes that were soaked in sweat when the cold came. He sat down on the floor, leaning against the bed, looking at the water bottle that was now half empty. It had been a risk, he knew that, but the recurring heat had made it impossible for him to ignore his thirst. So far nothing had happened. The water didn't seem to be poisoned. Erik licked his lips and took a deep breath. Every fibre in his body cried out for more water but he had to ration it. As far as he knew, that was the only water in this room and since he had no clue how long he would be in here, he would drink that water very slowly.

Suddenly, Erik noticed that the temperature wasn't raising anymore but it didn't drop either. It stayed warm. It wasn't uncomfortably hot like so many times before. He put his pants and the shirt on again, frowning, trying to figure out why it was different all of a sudden. As if someone wanted to puzzle him on purpose, the light changed too. The room was dimmed and the light was a different kind, more golden than white. The warmth and comfort of it made Erik sigh. He sat down onto the bed and rubbed his eyes. He was so exhausted. All he wanted was to lie down and sleep. A little voice in the back of his head whispered that it was okay, that he could sleep, that he didn't have to stay awake, to be alert to anyone entering the room because if someone really wanted him dead, it would've happened already...right? So why not lie down now? Why not?

Erik closed his burning eyes and noticed that he fell to the side. As his head hit the mattress, his tired mind came up with an answer for the little voice: 'Because someone wants exactly that.'

Even though he had realised that the changes in this room were only made so that he would fall asleep, he had no strength left to fight and stay awake. And a part of him didn't even care.

But fifteen minutes later, that part of him was very very sorry. Because someone did indeed enter the room whilst he was asleep. Erik didn't hear the person, he didn't even notice that a metal collar was placed around his neck, although the person had to move Erik's head a bit for that. Finally, this someone lifted Erik's eyelids and poured something into the metal benders eyes. This was when Erik woke up.

Pressing his palms against his eyes, he started to scream like a wounded animal. The burning pain inside his eyes nearly drove him mad. Every time he tried to open them, to see something, the pain intensified but even without opening them, it was unbearable. What the hell had happened to his eyes?!

Tears were running down his cheeks, he couldn't stop them, his nose was running as well. It reminded him of the symptoms one would have whilst cutting an onion but a hundred times more severe. He scrambled out of bed and stumbled towards the nearest wall, leaning against it with his back, this way he knew that an attack could only come from the front, the left or the right. He rubbed his eyes, desperately trying to get out whatever was inside there, but it didn't help at all.

Water! The water! He had to get to the bottle, to rinse out his eyes. Maybe that would help. Erik stumbled in the direction where he thought he'd left the bottle and to his relief he found the it very quickly. But what was that? The bottle was clearly too light, too...there was no water left inside! But how? How could that be? He didn't drink all of it, it had only been half empty. Erik screamed out in frustration and pain and threw the empty bottle across the room. He found his way back to the wall and followed it to reach one corner of the room. There he sat down, his head in his hands, he tried to breathe evenly, tried to bear the pain. His whole face seemed to be on fire but he wouldn't let those bastards win. He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of breaking him. He had lived through worse. This was nothing compared to the things Shaw had done to him, so...

Erik's hands slid down to his neck and touched solid metal. There was a metal collar around his neck. His heart skipped a beat and a whimper found its way out of his mouth. He knew what this was. He recognized it all too well from the concentration camp. Though this was most likely a modern and modified version of it. The dread of what might be in store for him made him momentarily forget the burning pain in his eyes.

"What do you want from me?!", he screamed as loud as he could.

* * *

 _"Screams, beautiful screams full of agony. That's all I want from you, dear Magneto. I'm afraid, you're just a means to an end", the invisible man said to the shouting figure on the screen, even though the figure couldn't hear him. But that didn't matter. In fact it was better this way, psychologically. Torture was always much harder to bear when you didn't know who was doing it and why._

 _The invisible man sighed. It all went according to plan so far. How thrilling it had been, to enter the room while the metal bender was sleeping, to sneak up on him, to switch out the bottles and to put the collar around his neck! And his reaction to the chilli oil in his eyes...priceless! The invisible man chuckled. Now the third act was about to start and he had to get the cameras ready and stay alert. It needed to be just right. Magneto had to stand on the perfect spot, only then it was worthwhile to activate the collar, or else the recording was useless. The first part of the video tape was almost complete. Act one and two perfectly cut together. A movie created for one purpose only, to ensure that he would get his way. It was either blinding white light or pitch black darkness to be seen on the tape but that was intended, the important thing was the voice you could hear. Magneto's voice. It was funny, the invisible man thought, now that he listened to it in the edited version, where all the screams and shouted questions and insults of Magneto could be heard in succession...you could actually hear how his anger, strength and determination faded. Beautiful!_

 _Oh, nice! Magneto was moving again, stumbling along the wall and straight towards the spot where he wanted him to be. It was almost too easy how everything went just the way he wanted it, but hey...he wasn't complaining. The sooner he could finish the video tape, the better._

 _The invisible man's finger was on the button that would activate the collar, waiting to push it in the right moment. This would become the second and last part of his little movie. This time Magneto would be visible. But in order to ensure that no one, who would see the tape later, could find out where it had been filmed, Magneto had to stand in front of the boarded up windows so that it would look like he was held in a house with wooden walls. It didn't matter that the floor was visible, since the video was in black and white and therefore it was impossible to deduce what material the floor was made of._

 _I'm a genius', the invisible man thought, 'oh, yes, I am.' He laughed and then he said out loud to the figure on the monitor in front of him: "Third act, aaaaand...action!", as he pushed the button that would activate the collar._

* * *

(Hi! I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. I ensure you that I have the whole story mapped out inside my head, but it's kind of hard at the moment to find time to write. Please, bear with me. And thank you so much for all your reviews so far. You are awesome! Jago)


	16. Chapter 16

"So sorry, Charles, we haven't found him yet." Hank said out of breath, as he entered Charles' bedroom in a hurry. "All the students are helping with the search but so far, there is no sign of Erik."

"I know." Charles hung his head. "I'm constantly checking on them telepathically, so that I will know the second, one of the students finds something. And I've been looking for him as well, I'm reaching as far as I can without Cerebro, but..."

"Nothing." Hank sighed.

"It makes no sense. It's like he disappeared from the face of the earth. How...I mean...he wouldn't wear the helmet for so long, not now, when we promised each other...Hank? What if he's d..."

Charles covered his mouth in shock. He couldn't say that, couldn't even think something like that. No! Erik wasn't dead!

"Don't go there, Charles. I'm sure he's just wearing his helmet. Maybe he's on a one man mission to kill those military guys from last week. After all, they did shoot him and he's the vengeful type, isn't he?"

Charles shook his head in disbelief: "I don't know, Hank. It just doesn't seem right."

Suddenly something in Hank's right hand caught his eye. "Why are you holding a video tape? Weren't you outside with the students looking for Erik?"

Hank stared at the black plastic thing in his hand and looked confused for a few seconds. And then he seemed to remember why he was carrying it around.

"Oh, that...um...I found it lying on the floor in the corridor, right outside your door actually. I thought that maybe a student lost it, or something, that's why I picked it up. I forgot that I was holding it in my hand when I entered your room. Is it yours?"

"No, I didn't bring any video tapes."

"Ah, well." Hank looked at the tape to figure out what kind of movie it was, because sometimes there was a sticker on it that would tell you the title. At the same time he said to Charles: "We should go back to the mansion. You could use Cerebro to..." he stopped midsentence, for what was written on the tape's sticker made no sense at all. Hank frowned. It was only one word: Magneto.

"Hank? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I guess...it's just...on the tape...um...Erik's name is written on it, I mean his other name, Magneto. That's odd, isn't it?"

Charles seemed equally confused and also a little bit alarmed. His voice was trembling when he said: "Let's go to the living room. There's a TV and a video recorder. We can watch the tape there, just make sure that none of the children are present while we're watching it. Who knows what's on it. This is indeed very odd. A tape, with the word 'Magneto' written on it, just happens to lie around in the corridor the day after Erik went missing. This can't be good, Hank."

"Maybe one of the student's recorded Magneto's appearances on the news, you know, all those times his missions were broadcasted on TV." Even while saying it, Hank realized that this was a bit farfetched. Why would any of the students do that? And even bring the tape to the lake house, for that matter? As far as he knew, there was no one at the school who was obsessed with Magneto, or even a bit of a fan. Except, the owner of the school, of course. Great! Now he was as nervous as Charles. What the hell could be on that tape?!

"We'll find it out. And I'm not obsessed or a fan of Magneto."

"I didn't say that out loud, did I?"

"No, but you were practically shouting in your mind. It was hard not to 'hear' it."

"Oh, um..sorry."

"It's okay."

"But you are obsessed with _Erik_." Hank stated and a smile flitted across his face, when he saw Charles blush. But the only response he got was:

"Let's watch the video tape."

They got to the living room and inserted the tape into the recorder. Both men waited impatiently for the TV to show them whatever had been captured on that mysterious tape. But to their surprise the screen showed nothing but bright white light. It seemed like the camera that should have recorded something had been put right next to a light bulb or the like. There was nothing they could see, except blinding light.

"Well...whoever made that tape had obviously no talent at all. I mean...come on...everybody knows that..." Hank got interrupted by Charles holding up a hand, signalling him to be silent. "Did you hear that?"

"What? No. I didn't hear anything."

"Turn the volume up. I think I heard something."

Hank did what he was told and soon they heard noises but they weren't very loud or clear. It was impossible to tell who or what the source was. But then, all of a sudden, a voice as clear as day screamed at them through the speakers: "Who are you?! What do you want?!"

Charles gasped for air and stared at the white screen in shock. "It's Erik."

Hank didn't know what to say, so he silently listened to the sounds coming from the tape. Just like Charles, he was staring at the screen, waiting for something to happen, for more information to clarify the situation. What kind of video was that? Had it been recorded recently or was it an old one?

Suddenly the screen went black and for a second Hank thought that this was it, the end of the video. But then he remembered, that at the end of a recording there was usually static and not just a black screen. Not long after that the white light was back. They heard a bit more muffled noises but again, they couldn't really identify the source. Then there was Erik's voice again, cutting through the silence, loud and angry: "What do you want?!" The screen went black again. And the recording continued in this manner. Changing from a white screen to a black screen at irregular intervals, indefinable background noises and from time to time Erik's voice. He either shouted questions or insults at someone who didn't seem to be in the same room, or he simply screamed in frustration and anger.

Apparently, no one ever approached or answered him, since Erik's questions stayed the same. Though it was obvious that the video had been edited, because each time Erik's voice could be heard again, there was something different about it. He seemed to lose his strength, his anger faded, he sounded weak and tired. And now he even slurred his speech. That change couldn't have happened in five or ten minutes. How long had they been watching this? But before Hank could take a look at the recorder to see how long the tape had been running, the picture on the screen changed yet again. But this time, there was an actual picture not just a blank white or black screen.

It wasn't much though, just a wooden wall and a bit of floor. Maybe it was a room inside a hunting lodge or a cottage, well it could've also been a cellar. Who was he kidding, Hank thought, there was no way of determining where this room was located. The screams that could be heard now made Charles gasp again. They barely sounded human. It was Erik's voice alright but the pain he seemed to experience distorted it. The raw screams reminded Hank of a wounded animal.

"What is going on, Hank?" Charles whispered, he was riveted by the screen. Now that there was a picture and not just black or white, he hoped to catch a glimpse of Erik. But so far there was still only his voice they could hear. The screams tore at their nerves.

"This is..." Charles moaned. "I can't listen to that. Why...? Is he being tortured? And is that an old video? Or is this the reason why Erik disappeared, was he abducted?"

Hank shrugged. "I don't know, maybe...Oh, look. Is that Erik?"

They both saw a figure stumble towards the wooden wall.

"Yes, that's Erik."

Charles clenched the armrests of his wheelchair. The quality of the recording wasn't very good but even like that, it was plain to see that Erik looked far from healthy and fine. His face was contorted with pain and he seemed unable to open his eyes. There was a strange collar around his neck.

"What's that?" Charles pointed at the screen, he seemed to have noticed the collar as well.

"Oh my god!", was all he managed to say when he saw what happened to Erik.

"It looks like that collar is giving him electric shocks", Hank stated, "this is wrong...just..who.."

Hank didn't know what to say. He didn't like Erik but that was too cruel, even someone like Erik didn't deserve to be tortured like that. They saw how the metal bender fell to the floor, writhing in agony, in the grip of muscle spasms. Then it stopped but the moment Erik had had time to recover a bit and catch his breath, the collar sent another electric shock through his body. At irregular intervals and with different severities, the collar continued to torture him mercilessly. Charles wanted to close his eyes but found that he wasn't able to. He had to see it, he had to know what happened next. Suddenly another voice could be heard, louder than Erik's moaning.

 _"Did you enjoy my little movie, professor? I made it myself. Isn't it gripping? I think you noticed by now that you're friend, the star in my movie, is missing. Well, surprise, he is with me. Not by choice of course. You probably figured that out as well, you're intelligent. So here is the deal: I need your help, Professor X. And to ensure that you won't turn me down and that you will do exactly as I say, I had to take radical measures. I saw how much Magneto means to you and I know you will do anything to save him. But before you get any heroic ideas, remember your little dive into the lake?...that was me...so don't do anything stupid, like trying to rescue Magneto. The same applies to you, Hank McCoy. I've been watching you guys for days and you didn't notice me. That's how you can be sure that you won't be able to hide anything from me. You have your power, I have mine. You will find a letter on your bed when you return to your room, professor. In there is the information you need, to do what I want you to do. Don't fret, you don't have to kill someone. It's a rescue mission. Simple, really, but still, only you are able to do it. Now, go to work, professor and remember that the longer it takes for you to free this person, the longer Magneto will suffer. And I must say, I'm rather enjoying myself. He can take a lot of pain. I wonder if I can break him. What do you think?"_


	17. Chapter 17

Exhaustion was the one prominent feeling he had, alongside the ever present pain. Pain in every shape or form. His whole body ached. All his muscles were still twitching although the collar had stopped torturing him with electric shocks for some time now. But Erik didn't believe in the current peace. The torture had gone on and on for...he couldn't say for how long, but it had felt like a lifetime, and now suddenly...nothing? Just like that? No, that was suspicious. Any minute the torment would start again, he was sure of it. So Erik didn't move. What was the point of it? When the collar would send him sprawling to the floor anyway? Minutes passed and nothing happened, except Erik's muscles decided to stop twitching so vigorously.

His brain must've stopped sending him signals about the fact that his eyes and face felt like being on fire, when it had been confronted with something more severe. But now that the electric shocks had stopped, Erik felt how the burning pain returned. He moaned.

Why the hell was this happening to him?

Why was he in here?

Why the torture?

Why was he not able to manipulate metal?

Why, why, why?

It made no sense to him.

If it was something personal, an act of vengeance for something Erik had done in the past, then the one doing it would have shown his face by now. Because if you want to take revenge, it is no fun at all if the person you were torturing knew nothing about what was going on. And the military would never keep him here, inside Charles' mansion. Why would they? Right?

Didn't Charles talk about something that the military wanted to use his mutation? Replicate it to breed a whole army of metal benders, wasn't that their idea? Well, why would they keep him here and torture him then?

No, this was neither personal, nor had it the military's signature. But who was doing it then?

Erik racked his brain but couldn't come up with a single reasonable explanation for all this. But in the end, what did it matter?

Even if he would be able to find out who did this to him, knowing it wouldn't free him. The door was locked, the window boarded up, his power was gone and to top it all, this room was telepath-proof. So no way of communicating with Charles.

Was he looking for him?

Mein Gott, what if Charles thought that he had left him again, abandoned him once more? How deep would the dark abyss be that would swallow him this time? And would Hank be able to pull him out?

Erik had left at night, wearing his helmet. If Charles found out that the helmet was gone as well, would he even look for him or just jump to the conclusion that Erik had left on purpose? Maybe, in the twisted self-loathing part of his mind, Charles would even think that Erik had left him because of the horrible thing he had done to his own legs. And then?

What if this time he would do something even more...something...more final, permanent...like killing himself?

No, no, no, please no!

Erik let out a low growl in frustration and in fear of losing Charles. He had to get out of here!

He wouldn't allow his...yes, let's face it...only friend, to kill himself.

If there was a way out, he would find it.

With new determination, Erik willed his muscles to work. It was far from easy, they didn't respond in the usual manner. His legs refused to listen to the neurological impulse completely and so Erik was only capable of sitting up and pushing himself back. This way he could lean against the wood that robbed the room of the sunlight. Erik was panting. He felt exhausted, after only sitting up. He let his hands fall into his lap and concentrated on breathing, but then he frowned. His hands were touching wet fabric. Wet?

Was there an injury he hadn't noticed yet? Was he bleeding? Panic was about to wrap its fingers around his throat, as he tried to look through the teary haze of his burning eyes. But as far as he could tell, there wasn't any blood. His fingers weren't smeared with red liquid after he had touched his pants, they were simply wet. Suddenly he smelled it and realisation hit him like a punch in the stomach, it made him moan and he felt even more miserable than he had before. This was his own urine. He must've lost control over his bladder during the electric shocks. How humiliating! Whoever was holding him captive here, had been able to watch it all through the cameras. Great!

Erik thought about changing his pants and underwear but then he recalled that he had taken all of the clothes, Charles had kept in the metal wardrobe for him, to the lake house. And walking around naked was no option. As long as he had even a tiny shred of dignity left, he would guard it like a treasure. The only thing he could do now, was to wait until his clothes dried but unfortunately the smell would stay. Well it was a good thing then, that he was alone in here.

Erik chuckled, it sounded forlorn and lunatic in his ears and he covered his mouth with one hand to cease it.

All of a sudden he felt like crying but he knew that if he would start now, he wouldn't be able to stop. He took a deep breath and concentrated on scanning his surroundings. Something bugged him, he didn't know what it was, not exactly anyways. There was this feeling that someone had entered the room while he'd been writhing in pain on the floor. He wasn't able to see clearly through the tears his eyes were still producing. He squinted and blinked and then he saw it, though briefly but there was no doubt about it.

Someone had replaced the empty bottle he had thrown across the room. Now there was a new one and it seemed to be filled with water. Erik fought the urge to jump up, to run towards it, because he wouldn't be able to do that anyway. His legs still refused to obey him but he had to get to the bottle, he needed to rinse his eyes out.

The heck with it! "If anyone is watching...I hope you like the show, Assholes", he had planned to shout that, but in his weakened state it was closer to mumbling. Slowly, dragging his legs behind, he crawled towards the nightstand where the bottle stood on top. He took a sip to verify that it was water and again he couldn't be sure that it wasn't poisoned but what was there to do about that?

It tasted like water and after a few gulps he had to stop himself from drinking the whole bottle, his eyes needed it more right now. He lay down on the floor, and carefully rinsed his eyes out. Erik was anxious about getting water onto the collar, the last thing he needed was another electric shock. It all went well but his eyes didn't feel much better. It seemed that whatever was inside his eyes, was pretty sticky or oily and water was non-effective, but it was relieving for a while though and Erik took what he could get.

He crawled back to the wooden wall and took the bottle with him. By the time he reached the boards, he was panting again. He leaned against the wall and started to pick at the wood absentmindedly. A thought hit him and he knew that as soon as he could command his legs again he would go and look for something he could use to destroy these boards, to loosen the nails...something...anything...

Exhausted and in constant pain, Erik wondered for the first time if he would survive this, whatever 'this' was. What if he died? And what if 'this' was going to last ten years? Just like the countless days in his cell in Pentagon? Ten years without touch, without conversation, without music, without nature, without his power, without chess, without...without...Charles.

Erik hung his head.


	18. Chapter 18

"Do we have all the things we need?"

"This feels wrong, Charles. I mean after all I know about her, she should stay right where she is."

Driving towards the secret military facility was no problem for Hank, he had memorized the map that had been inside the envelope on Charles' bed. Even though he knew where to go and what to do, it didn't make the whole thing any better.

"Of course it's wrong", Charles snapped but immediately regretted his aggressive tone. It wasn't Hank's fault that the whole situation was so frustrating. To be the puppet of someone else, to be trapped, to have absolutely no control over what's going to happen next... it was a pretty stupid feeling, to put it mildly.

"I'm sorry, Hank, but we've been over this a dozen times already, there is no other way. We have to free her. We can't actually see our enemy, so we can't fight him. And we can't locate Erik and the longer we wait and think about how wrong our actions are, the..." Charles couldn't finish the sentence. He had to take a deep breath before he continued: "You saw the video, Hank. If the torture continues in this manner, Erik won't survive it. We have to act now."

They've only had a few days together, Charles thought, he couldn't lose Erik, not now and not like that. There seemed to be some stupid unwritten cosmic law, that made sure that every time Charles felt remotely happy, something bad happened straight away and destroyed everything completely.

He didn't dare to think about the possibility that Erik wouldn't survive this. He couldn't think about that, not one second. He had to focus now, to think about the mission ahead.

They had to free a woman.

In the envelope Charles had found on his bed, had been some documents about where she was imprisoned, what her name was and even a picture. Maybe to make sure that they wouldn't free the wrong person. The abductor couldn't have known, but this might have been his first, Charles hoped not the last, mistake. Charles hadn't recognized the woman but Hank had. They had never met, luckily, one might add. But Hank had read a lot about her.

Her and her brothers terrible crimes had been all over the news, back when Hank had been a teenager.

They had called them the Rider-Twins. Leila and Leon Rider. The countless tabloids however, used to name them the nightmare-twins, the child-killers and the banshees. It was a mystery to this day how they had been able to lure the children out of their homes without anyone noticing it. Though Hank and Charles got now an idea of how it might have happened. If the one who had kidnapped Erik was in fact Leon Rider, then it was clear that his mutation had played a big part in those past crimes.

From what Hank had told Charles, it was obvious that they were quite the monsters but it was also impossible to miss that all of their horrid crimes could've been prevented. Maybe if they would've had the chance to find a place where they belonged to, a place where their mutation wasn't considered a curse but a gift, a place like Charles' school...maybe then, they wouldn't have acted on their anger and bitterness.

After Leila Rider had been captured by the police, the background story of the twins hit the newspapers. They both had been thrown out of their parents house when Leon's mutation had shown for the first time. Apparently he was only visible for as long as he stayed close to his sister. As soon as he would step away from her side, only a few feet, he would become invisible and stay that way. Abandoned by their parents and chased away by countless children's homes as soon as they noticed Leon's mutation, the twin's anger turned towards the 'normal' children, the ones who lived in happy families. It usually happened at night and in the morning, the parents found their child, or children dead in front of their house. Charles had interrupted Hank when he had started to describe how they had been killed. Charles didn't want those details inside his own head.

Hank had told him that Leila's mutation had never been mentioned in the newspapers and tabloids but Charles guessed that she somehow had the power to nullify whatever mutation the person standing next to her possessed. Which would explain one of the instructions written in the letter of the kidnapper: 'It wouldn't be wise for you, professor, to get too close to the one you have to free. About ten feet distance should be save. But since you can do anything you want with your mind, you don't even have to enter the facility, do you?'

He was right about that. It wasn't a big problem for Charles to manipulate everyone inside a building, to make them do what he wanted them to do, but it made him feel rotten to the core. To manipulate so many people, to free a criminal...Sure, she was a mutant, and those military guys were probably experimenting on her, but still...she had killed children in the most horrid ways you could imagine. He couldn't free someone like that.

But...Erik.

He had to do it for Erik.

Charles had racked his brains for other ways to get his friend back, but had found none. So here they were, in a car on their way to free someone who liked killing children.

"We're here, Charles." Hank looked at him and tried to sound confident. "It's gonna work, this will be over in no time."

Charles sighed and nodded. Then closed his eyes and put two fingers on his temple.

Hank got out of the car and started to walk towards the highly guarded entrance door.

Guards were pointing their weapons at him and asked him, to show his ID or Passport but suddenly they lowered their weapons and even opened the door for Hank. This was undoubtedly Charles' doing. It worked.

Now, to the elevator.

The cell Leila was imprisoned in, was several floors underground. No one stopped him. The people inside the building just ignored his presence, as if he was a ghost. Sometimes it scared Hank when he saw how powerful Charles really was. He made all the people who were passing by Hank think, that he just wasn't there or that he belonged to the staff or the soldiers. Every guarded door, every security check, not a problem. And in no time, Hank was in possession of the key and the key card who were both needed to open up Leila's cell door.

'Be careful', he heard Charles' voice inside his head, as the door slid to the side and revealed a woman sitting on an uncomfortable looking bed.

"Come with me", Hank said to her, "I'm here to free you."

She eyed him but didn't seem in a hurry to get up. "I don't know you. Who are you?"

"It doesn't matter. Come on. We haven't got all day."

"If this is a trick..."

"It's not a trick. I believe your brother set this up."

"You believe?"

"Well, it's kinda hard to tell. The guy who made me and my friend get you out of here is invisible. Sounds like your brother though, right?"

"Leon," she whispered and finally got up. "Where is he?"

"I have no clue. But he told us where we have to meet him, so come on."

Hank had to force himself not to run through the corridors. His only wish was to get out of this place alive and to get as far away from this woman as possible. Even with the serum coursing through his veins, he felt something change inside his body. Something strange. Like the serum wasn't even needed. Suddenly he stumbled and almost fell to the floor. His feet felt different, oddly small and weak.

So it was true then, this woman had a mutation too, only it wasn't a visible one. Every mutant who stood too close to Leila turned into a simple homo sapiens as long as he remained next to her.

Did the military know that?

Is this why they had her locked up here in the first place?

What if they were close to creating some kind of weapon with the help of her mutation?

Hank didn't even want to think about that.

'Hank? Everything alright? Your mind...it feels different...what's going on?' Charles' worried voice resounded in Hank's head and he hurried to answer him. 'It's okay. We are on our way out. It's just her power, she kind of blocks my mutation. I guess as soon as she is in the car with you, your telepathy won't work.'

'I suspected as much. You have to drive away very fast when you get back into the car, because the telepath I fooled when Spike was at the mansion, is inside this facility now. As soon as I lose my power he will notice that something is amiss.'

'Alright.' Hank hurried through the corridors, Leila walking behind him. She was obviously confused about the fact, that the guards, soldiers and scientists who passed them by, paid no attention whatsoever to them. "Why aren't they stopping us?", she whispered. "Are we invisible or something?"

"No, we're not invisible."

"Then what is it?"

"It doesn't matter. Come on, hurry."

She frowned but didn't ask any further questions and Hank was glad about that. She made him feel strange, vulnerable without his mutation, not himself. He didn't expect to feel so forlorn without it. It had always been his dream to be 'normal', like all the other humans. But now that it was reality, it simply felt wrong. And above it all, his brain felt blocked, like he was only using half of it. This had to stop.

They passed the front gate and ran the last bit towards the car. Hank told her to get inside, sit down on the backseat and hold on. Then he got behind the wheel and drove away from the military facility as fast as he could.

Only now he glanced at Charles who was holding his head, his face white as a sheet. "Charles? Are you okay?"

"Yes, yes...I'm alright", he mumbled, "it's the abrupt loss of my power after being in so many heads at once...this feels like being on the serum...the silence is..." Charles leaned back in his seat, eyes closed and a faint smile appeared.

This wasn't good, Hank thought. He hoped that this experience didn't make Charles long for the serum again. "Charles, focus please. Where do I have to drive to now?"

Charles looked at him a bit confused.

Hank sighed: "Yes, I know that I should remember, but I forgot it, okay. You're not the only one who is affected by our guest in the back seat. Just tell me."

"Oh", Charles cleared his throat, "Right. He'll meet us outside the old chapel, you know, the one that's about three miles away from the school."

"Ah, I know which one. Alright." Hank remembered reading the instruction in the letter now. How could he have forgotten that? His mind really felt like somebody else's at the moment. He couldn't wait to get as far away from Leila as possible.

Charles turned around in his seat and looked at their 'guest' for the first time.

"Hello Leila, my name is Charles Xavier and the one who got you out of your cell is Hank McCoy. We are on our way to meet your brother. He has, let's say, given us the order to free you. Would you mind telling us why he wasn't able to free you himself? I mean, he's invisible."

"He tried it, years ago. The military knew he would come for me one day and they set a trap. They used some kind of cameras that could detect body heat. This way the soldiers were able to see him before he could reach my cell. Then they blackmailed him, tricked him into working for them as a spy. In exchange they promised him not to kill me. For months he thought that I was a simple prisoner. He must've found out that they experimented on me and on other mutants, because he hid a note in my food one day, apologizing to me and telling me that he had finally a plan to free me, to free us both. I guess you two guys were the 'plan' then?"

"Kind of", Charles said through gritted teeth and turned around again when he heard Hank say: "We're here."

They told Leila to wait in the car, while Hank helped Charles into his wheelchair. She seemed to trust them, after all they had gotten her out of her prison cell and were apparently working together with her brother. When Charles was ready, Hank told Leila to get out of the car as well. She frowned when Hank gripped her arm. "What's going on?"

"Don't worry, sister. They are just afraid of you running away."

"Leon!", she cried out, happy to see her brother again. Hank and Charles were surprised to see Leon Rider appear out of nowhere a few feet in front of them. His shirt and hands were covered in blood, the sight made Charles gasp.

"Are you hurt?", Leila asked when she noticed the blood as well.

"Oh, that? No, that's not my blood." Leon grinned as he stared right at Charles and winked at him.

"Where is Erik?! You promised to free him when we bring your sister to you. Where is he?!" Charles screamed at him. He didn't care how desperate he sounded and that his voice cracked.

Leon smiled and shrugged: "I'm afraid he couldn't make it to our little meeting. It's funny, really, the great Magneto, stripped of his power, is just as delicate as every other human being. It's a shame."

"No, no you didn't..." Charles stammered, trying to fight off a panic attack.

Leon's smile turned into loud laughter as he stretched out one hand and beckoned to Leila to come to him. It wasn't hard for her to pull her arm from Hank's grip. He was as shocked as Charles, unable to do anything but stare at the blood-soaked figure in front of him.

Leila ran to her brother and hugged him whilst Leon continued to stare at Charles.

He enjoyed to see the pain and sadness welling up like tears in the telepath's eyes. It was beautiful to witness how the professor slowly abandoned himself to despair.


	19. Chapter 19

The fear of spending years and years inside this room, of being isolated again, was annoyingly persistent. Erik failed to get rid of it. Usually, he would just shove all the unwanted feelings and strange emotions into the back of his mind, where they disappeared. But this time, it didn't work and Erik could only speculate about the reason.

Maybe Charles changed something so fundamentally inside Erik's mind, when he entangled all the pent-up and confusing emotions, that it just wouldn't function the way it used to. The place where Erik had banished all those unproductive feelings to in the past, was now empty, white and clean. Nothing was able to stay there, it couldn't lock on to anything at all, it bounced right back.

Robbed of his old technique to get rid of unnecessary emotions, Erik had a hard time to concentrate on anything. It didn't help that his stomach started to hurt from hunger. At least the burning pain inside his eyes slowly started to fade away and he was now able to see a bit more of his surroundings again. There was the bed, the table with the chess on it, the chairs, the wardrobe, and to his right and left side were the shelves with countless books on them.

The books! That was it.

They all had something small made out of metal on them, so that Erik would be able reach for them without having to move. He had forgotten that, because he couldn't feel the metal around him anymore. But something on those books had to be usable for loosening the wooden boards, right? Some small little piece of metal, something to get the nails out or to make a hole, just big enough so he could shatter the window. Maybe someone would walk past and see the glass on the ground. Maybe Erik could even throw a piece of paper out of the window with the word 'help' or 'SOS' on it. Someone would find it and would get him out of this room.

Yes, that sounded like a reasonable plan.

Erik got up, very slowly, and much to his relief his legs worked again. There didn't seem to be any lasting damage from the electric shocks. He felt lightheaded and weak though, and couldn't stand up straight because his stomach had turned into a knot of pain.

How many days had gone by?

He couldn't tell.

Was it day or night?

He didn't know.

A wave of blinding fear washed over him again.

What if it had been weeks already?

There was no way of keeping track of time in here. No daylight, no clocks, not even regular meals like he had gotten in his cell in the Pentagon. And the constant change from pitch black darkness to blinding white light when he had woken up inside this room, had really messed with his mind.

But wait...there had only been two bottles of water so far. And that meant that he couldn't have been imprisoned for weeks or else he would've died of thirst.

Yes, that was it. This made sense. If the bottle would be refilled or replaced every time it was empty again, he could appoint this as his new calendar. He just hoped that the bottle would be replaced. Because if not...

Erik new that without food he could last about 20 or 30 days, but without water, he was a dead man.

There it was again; fear. He didn't want to be afraid of dying. He didn't want to feel paralyzed by it. It wasn't a productive emotion like anger, it was hindering him, slowing him down. He wished he could get rid of it. He had to find a way somehow.

While thinking about methods to free himself of this unfamiliar feeling, Erik took some books from the shelve and sat down on the bed. He tried to focus on the task at hand, tried to figure out if there was a metal part on those books he could use for loosening the nails. But as he was examining the first book, the collar around his neck suddenly fell off and tumbled to the floor.

Erik jumped up and hurried to get to the nearest corner. There he stood with his back to the wall, scanning the room. His head was pounding from getting up too fast and for a brief moment everything went black. Erik leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. His vision cleared again but he couldn't see anyone. The room was still empty. But if no one was here, how the hell did the collar get off then? Some kind of remote control? Was he being released?

Erik looked at the door, anticipating it to open any second. But it didn't.

Instead something hit him very hard in the face. His lip split and blood ran into his mouth and down his chin. Erik's brain was busy trying to come up with a reasonable explanation about what just happened.

Someone he couldn't see just... punched him?

That didn't make any sense at all.

And it hadn't felt like a human fist, more like an object, a very solid one.

He hurried along the wall to the next corner, always looking out for something that would indicate that he wasn't alone anymore. Suddenly, something punched him in the stomach and drove the air out of his lungs. It made him topple over and he fell to the side, his arms wrapped around his torso. He struggled to breathe, but whoever was hitting him, didn't wait for him to recover. Pain erupted in his back, as something hard collided with it. Erik threw his head back and opened his mouth in an attempt to scream, but there was not enough air in his lungs for that.

It felt like an eternity until his body allowed him to breathe again. Gasping and wheezing, Erik crawled slowly back to the wall, to have some kind of cover and safety. But when he reached out with his left hand again to pull himself closer to the wall, the object came down on his hand. Erik heard the bones break before the pain kicked in and made him scream. This time, there was enough air in his lungs, but a blow to the back of his head shut him up. He must have blacked out for a minute or two, because when he opened his eyes again, he was lying on the floor and his cheek felt sticky and wet. Slowly his mind registered that the small puddle that was forming around his head was his own blood, trickling down from the wound on the back of his head.

Erik moaned and then he heard someone chuckle, but still, the room was as empty as before. Maybe his mind was playing tricks on him. Carefully, he sat up and leaned against the wall. But whoever or whatever was doing this to him, wasn't done yet. The next blow followed and was aimed at his nose, breaking it with a loud crack. Blood was gushing out of his nose almost immediately, painting his mouth, chin and the front of his shirt red. Erik's eyes were full of tears, he couldn't see a thing but even if he would have been able to, he wouldn't have seen the next blow coming. The object collided with his stomach again and he gasped as he fell to the side. His head hit the floor and he stopped breathing, eyes wide open.

* * *

 _Well, what a shame, Leon thought as he let go of the wooden baseball bat in his hands. It fell to the floor with a thud, got visible again and rolled into the blood that was pooling around Magneto's head._

 _This game had ended way too early. It would have been more fun, if Magneto had lasted a little longer._

 _He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. Well, there was nothing he could do about that now. The fun was over._

 _Leon walked over to the growing puddle of blood next to Magneto and put both his hands in it. He smeared the red liquid all over his own shirt and arms and chuckled._

 _That would paint beautiful pictures inside the professor's head, when he would finally see his friend's captor for the first time. Xavier's imagination would go to the most horrid places to show him all the gruesome things that might have happened to his beloved Magneto._

 _Oh, yes! Leon was looking forward to their meeting._


	20. Chapter 20

Hank stumbled towards Charles and knelt down next to the wheelchair. Charles saw his friends lips move, but didn't hear the words. He saw how his hand was being squeezed reassuringly, but he didn't feel it. He noticed though that his breathing slowed down. He blinked and felt tears running down his cheeks. The complete silence inside his head was increasing the numbness that was taking hold of his whole body.

No voices, not one single thought of another human being, only his own and the dreadful pictures that his imagination came up with. Theories of how Erik could've died, different scenarios that would explain the extent of blood loss...though in the end, what did it matter?

Erik was dead!

DEAD!

Charles clenched his teeth and stared at the two mutants, who were walking away from him and Hank. And he realized that his telepathy would return as soon as there was enough distanced between him and Leila. If he assessed her power right, Leon's unreadable mind that he had when he was invisible, would, now that he was standing next to his sister, be completely unguarded and free for Charles to read.

He had to see it!

He just had to know how it had happened, even if it was torture, but not knowing how Erik died was even worse.

And so Charles waited, waited for the horrible twins to walk away far enough. He stared at the back of Leon's head, unable to do anything else, while Hank still talked to him, even grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, to get some kind of response or reaction from him. Charles couldn't talk, he had to be ready and when he felt his power return to him, he took a deep breath and tried to brace himself for what he would discover inside Leon's mind. But even if he would have had all the time in the world to prepare himself for the horror he saw now, it still would not have been enough.

Charles relived in vivid details how Erik had been beaten to death. Seeing it through Leon's eyes and feeling what Leon had felt when he had hit Erik over and over again, was as if Charles was doing it himself right now. The image of how Erik stopped breathing, his eyes wide open in panic and pain was too much for Charles, he slipped out of Leon's mind and screamed as loud as he could. Pure desperation and agony was radiating from him and it made Hank flinch. But almost instantly, the agony turned into bottomless hatred and rage, for Charles remembered how much fun it had been for Leon to torture and kill Erik.

With almost no effort, Charles stopped the twins from walking any further. Of course Hank had noticed the change in Charles and since he had gotten his own power back as well, he knew that the two mutants in the distance were not standing completely still just because they wanted to.

"Charles? What are you doing?"

He felt confusion and worry radiating from Hank, but he couldn't deal with this now, he didn't want to. The only thing he wanted was revenge and so he blended Hank out, blended all the other voices, pictures and feelings that he picked up in the vicinity out, until there was only him and the twins left.

Charles highlighted the horrible memory of Erik's death inside Leon's mind and shoved it into Leila's mind as well. He wasn't gentle at all. They didn't deserve that. They were both murderers. Erik wasn't their first victim but he would most certainly be their last one.

Charles made Leila walk towards a tree that stood nearby and told her hands to break off a thick branch. She carried it back to Leon, who took off his own jacket and shirt, so that his upper body was now bare. Leila turned the branch around. This way, the splintered end was pointing at her brother. Charles took a deep breath and released the twins minds just enough to make them able to see and feel what was happening to them. With cold determination, Charles made Leila push the branch into her brothers stomach with all the force he found in her.

Leon yelped and Charles allowed him to fall to his knees. Inside Leon's mind, Charles saw how the mutant realized his mistake, that he knew he had forgotten how powerful the professor was and that the telepathy would return as soon as his sister wasn't close enough anymore.

While holding him in place like that, Charles made Leila pull the branch out of her brother and then let her carelessly drop it to the ground. Her face was a mask of pure horror and pain, as she had to watch her beloved brother bleed out in front of her. Charles felt how Leon was fading away quickly. There was no regret to be found, neither for the countless people he had killed before, nor for beating Erik to death. Nothing, only pain and sadness that he had to leave his sister now. And as Charles promised him telepathically, that he shouldn't worry about that, since he would kill his sister as well, the sadness turned to fear and Leon screamed inside his head. He even begged him, to spare his sister, to let her go, but Charles simply showed him again how Erik's head was lying in a pool of his own blood. Leon looked at his sister and saw with rising panic that her skin seemed to turn blue and her eyes were protruding. Apart from that, she was still standing in front of her brother, as motionless as a statue. Confusion spread through Leon's mind and Charles explained to him that his sister was already dying. He had made her forget how to breathe.

Leon wanted to do so many things all at once, to get up, to hold his sister and tell her that everything would be alright, to breathe for her, to kill the professor, to tear him to shreds, to gouge his eyes out and slash his throat...but he couldn't do any of it, he couldn't even move a finger. Soon his vision got blurry and his heartbeat irregular until it stopped altogether. He died almost in the same second as Leila did.

With a gasp, Charles released the dead twins' minds as well as their bodies and they fell to the ground.

Charles realized that he had been clenching the armrests of his wheelchair the entire time and so he let go of them and looked at his hands. They were trembling, he tried to stop them but to no avail.

"Charles?"

A loud voice, almost too loud for his ears, was calling his name and he raised his head to see who it was. Hank. It must have been Hank. He stood in front of him, staring at him, looking shocked, even... frightened?

"Charles, you...you killed them. Just like that. You..."

Charles didn't know how to respond to that. All the rage was gone, instead he felt nothing, nothing at all. Not even sadness that Erik was dead, not even horror about the fact that he'd just killed two mutants in a gruesome way. Absolute and utter emptiness was all that was left inside him.

"Charles! Come on, you have to talk to me! What the hell is going on? Why would you do something like that? I mean, I don't know exactly what you did to them, but it looked a lot like torture, Charles. Torture! And yes...I know, they weren't good people, but...but..."

There were so many words in this world, but none of them was capable of describing the vacuum-like storm that was raging silently inside Charles. He couldn't explain what had happened to him, he couldn't explain why he had killed and yes...tortured those mutants. He could only say one thing: "Leon killed Erik, Hank. Erik is dead."

Hank's facial expression changed. Where shock and confusion had been clearly visible before, was now a mixture of sadness, pity and something that Charles couldn't quite understand why it was there.

Fear.

Why would Hank be afraid? Of whom or what? Maybe Charles was just imagining things. His head was hurting pretty bad and he was tired, so... tired. He asked Hank telepathically if they could get home now. And with a nod as a response, Hank helped him into the passenger seat.

They drove back in silence.

When Charles had asked Hank to drive him home, he had sent him a picture of the mansion and not the lake house. He couldn't possibly face the kids with their unlimited energy and happiness. He couldn't possibly enter the room he and Erik had shared. Couldn't look at Erik's few belongings that would lie around there, waiting for their owner to come back and pick them up. Because that would never happen, right? Erik would never come back...ever.

Charles longed to cry, but he couldn't. The emptiness inside him was even swallowing his tears.

* * *

God help me!

This was it! The worst thing that could have possibly happened, did happen.

Erik was dead.

This would destroy Charles for good, and Hank had no clue how to prevent it.

How to save him from himself, how to get him through this, how to make it all better, make it go away...

He couldn't revive Erik, which was the only thing that would help right now.

Hank went mentally through all the phrases that one usually said to comfort a friend who just lost someone, but they all sounded stupid and wrong, borrowed from a crappy TV-show. So he said nothing and they drove back to the mansion in silence.

Hank had no way of knowing what would happen next. How would Charles react?

So far, his behaviour had been very uncharacteristic and utterly worrying. The fact that he had killed those twins was unsettling enough, but HOW he had done that...well let's just say that 'it shocked him' would have been the understatement of the year. And afterwards there had been no noticeable reaction at all. No anger, not one single tear, and he hadn't been appalled by the things he'd just done. He had been staring at his trembling hands though, but more in confusion than in horror. There had been no panic attack, or breakdown of any kind. And the way he had told him that Erik was dead, had sounded monotonous, completely emotionless. The only thing that Hank was able to deduce with certainty, was that Charles was tired. But apart from that...he was at a loss. He couldn't read minds, that wasn't his power. So he was left with guesswork.

Charles might pick up on his self-destructive behaviour and eventually die because of that, or he might kill himself right away. Maybe he would lose his mind. Whatever would happen, Hank had no way of knowing and a very slim chance of preventing any of it. If Charles decided to break his promise, to manipulate Hank's mind again...

No! Hank had to believe that his friend valued their friendship enough as not to stoop so low a second time.

They arrived at the mansion and Hank helped Charles into his wheelchair. As they entered the house, Hank cleared his throat and asked something that he had been wondering about for a few minutes but hadn't been able to find the right words to ask it. He still wasn't sure if he should in fact ask this right now, but it was bugging him.

"Do you know where he is? I mean... Erik. Did you recognize the place where he was imprisoned? Is he still there? You've seen Leon's memories, right? If there's a clue, the name of a road maybe, or even a town sign, we could go find him and bring him back here."

Charles mumbled something Hank couldn't understand and then he looked at him and a smile flitted across his face. It seemed bitter, desperate and it left Hank with a very uneasy feeling.

"Would you help me to my room, Hank? I'd like to go to my room now."

Charles voice was unsteady, his lips were twitching and his eyes were red. Was it anger? Sadness. Hank couldn't tell. It was clearly a change, though Hank wasn't sure if it was a good one. Any emotion was better than none at all, right? But why was Charles ignoring his questions?

"Don't you wanna find..." Hank tried again but the loud voice that was cutting him off, made him flinch.

"Now!"

"A...alright..." Hank stammered. Confused and worried, he accompanied Charles to his room and tried to come up with an explanation as to why the professor didn't want to give him an answer.


	21. Chapter 21

He woke up and the first thing he noticed was that his eyes burned but it was a different kind of burning this time, it felt more like they were completely dry. He closed them and then blinked for a very long time until he was able to see something again.

He was still in the metal room and as far as he could tell, he was alone. But then again, he couldn't be sure, could he?

He didn't dare to move. And there were two reasons why. The first one was, that he was genuinely afraid of finding out that this invisible thing was still in here with him, waiting for him to try to get up, so that it could hit him again. Well, he said 'it', but logic dictated him that this 'it' had to be a mutant. An invisible one and to be frank, it was quite a sick bastard. Erik could swear that he had heard him chuckle. Who chuckles while beating someone to a pulp? This mutant must have enjoyed hitting him far too much.

The second reason was, that Erik wasn't sure if he could get up even if he wanted to. To determine what kind of body part was hurt the most, was an impossible task. The laceration on the back of his head and the broken nose transformed his whole skull into a throbbing ball of pain. His left hand was definitely broken, as were one or two ribs and that turned breathing into a very unpleasant thing. Erik couldn't diagnose what kind of damage the blow to his back had done but it made him think that moving wasn't such a great idea after all.

And why should he? There was nowhere to go. The door was still closed and when he moved his head a bit (very slowly and carefully) he could see that the window was as tightly boarded up as ever. Erik felt like crying, but he quickly shoved this feeling away. He wouldn't give that son of a bitch the satisfaction of seeing him like this. Maybe he was still in the room or he was watching him through those cursed cameras, either way, Erik wasn't planning on giving him that victory. And to his surprise it worked. He was able to shove all the despair and sorrow into the deepest corner of his mind and it stayed there. Erik sighed. At least his old method of clearing his head was working again. The physical pain was enough to bear at the moment, he didn't need the emotional as well.

The blood around his head was slowly drying and that was a good sign. It meant that no new blood was leaking out of him anymore and also that time was passing by without another assault of the invisible psycho. Speaking of...was that a baseball bat on the floor in front of him? So that had probably been the weapon he'd used. Convenient, if anything he touched got invisible as well. But why leave it here? Wasn't he afraid of Erik using the bat to defend himself?...ahh...Erik had to admit, that it was pretty unlikely for him to pick up any kind of object, let alone defend himself with it. The invisible guy must have thought so too, or he was even thinking that Erik was dead. After all, he had been unconscious for a while and by the looks of it with his eyes open as well. It could have tricked this mutant into believing that he had beaten Erik to death. If that was the case, should he be relieved or not? It meant that he wouldn't come back to torture him but there was also the possibility that he would just leave him here to rot. That wasn't a pleasant thought at all. Maybe he would return to collect the body in order to get rid of it somehow?

God, he had to stop thinking about all the if's. It made his head hurt even more. The only thing that he had to focus on remained the same. Getting out of this room and back to Charles.

But that goal could have never been further away.

* * *

Sitting in his wheelchair, alone in his room and staring out of the window, Charles felt everything and nothing at the same time. But there was one feeling that stuck out, it was hatred towards himself. He hated himself, for shouting at Hank, for ignoring his questions, for treating him so disrespectful. His friend didn't deserve that! But Charles had seen no other way to dissuade him from his plan to look for Erik's body.

They didn't have to look for him, Charles knew exactly where Erik was but he couldn't talk about it, let alone go there...at least not right now. It was too devastating, too horrible. It was like one last tasteless joke from Leon, it felt like he was laughing at him and thanking him for building this perfect prison.

Of course Charles hadn't been able to find Erik, when he had been locked up in the metal room all this time. The very same room that Charles had built for Erik to make him feel safe and welcome had become his grave instead.

Oh, he could strangle himself for that now!

Building a telepath-proof room!

How stupid!

Why did it never occur to him that someone could use this feature for something bad? Erik would scold him for being so naive. But to be fair, he couldn't have known that one day an invisible man would come by and inject Erik with something that would block his power to manipulate metal and then imprison him in a room that consisted solely of said element. This must have been the ultimate torture for Erik. It was like cutting off a fishes fins and then tossing the fish back into the ocean.

Charles had seen in Leon's mind that the liquid he had injected Erik with, had been Leila's blood. The mutant had always carried a little vial of his sister's blood around with him. He had used it on himself if a situation had required it for him to be visible. Depending on how much he injected, it could last a few hours or even days. So for Erik, Leon had used every single drop he had had left of his sister's blood, just to be sure.

Why didn't it wear off soon enough so that Erik could've been able to free himself, or at least defend himself when Leon had decided to beat him to death.

The horrible pictures and Erik's screams filled Charles' head again and he gasped and shoved them away as quickly as he could. He needed...wanted to forget that inside this house, just a few rooms further, his friend's lifeless body was lying in a pool of blood, dead eyes staring into space...

Another cruel joke of life! It had shown him for a brief time how good it could be, how his days would look like with Erik by his side and then it took it all away from him...again. Oh, he wanted to forget it all! He wanted to drown his sorrow, numb his pain, just for a day or two...

But there was no alcohol in his room anymore, neither was there in the kitchen. Some students were hiding bottles of whiskey, wine or beer in their own rooms though. Of course Charles knew of them, but he had never said anything. Somehow it had always been soothing to him, it had been his secret stash, without being 'his'. He had to admit that he had taken advantage of it the day Erik had arrived here. Charles had controlled a student to bring him a bottle of Jack Daniels he had been hiding in his wardrobe. Hank didn't find out how his friend had come by that bottle and Charles never told him. But he couldn't do that now...all the students were at the lake house and Charles felt no desire to explain to Hank why he was going through some student's belongings. And manipulating Hank's mind so that he would bring him alcohol was out of the question. He couldn't do that. No! As much as he craved the taste and the warm numbing embrace of whiskey, he couldn't...

* * *

Charles had his arms wrapped around Erik. They were lying in a bed at the lake house, it was in the middle of the night and Erik had just woken up with the uneasy feeling that this might not be real. But there he was, in the arms of Charles, save and sound...happy. Everything was good. He was breathing in the scent of Charles' hair and sighed. This was perfect. He never wanted to leave this bed, ever again.

He kissed his friends forehead and smiled when Charles stirred, mumbling something in his sleep. Then he opened his eyes and looked at Erik with a worried expression.

"Why are you sleeping? You shouldn't sleep."

Well...that was confusing. He wasn't sleeping. In fact he had been awake long before Charles had woken up. Erik frowned and said: "What are you talking about? I am not asleep."

"Yes, you are but you shouldn't be. You're head is seriously injured."

"Yeah, right..." Erik couldn't make any sense of this.

Maybe Charles was the one who was still sleeping and talking in his sleep.

"You don't believe me, but it's true. Try to turn around and get out of the bed, you'll see."

"What? What will I see?"

"Just do it, please."

"This is silly", Erik said, but since it seemed very important to Charles, he decided to do it. Charles let go of him, and Erik turned around but he couldn't do any more than that. His torso and his head exploded with pain and the room around him disappeared.

As he opened his eyes, he moaned, because he realized that 'Charles' had been right. He had been sleeping and dreaming. This was reality.

This!

Lying in a pool of his own blood, beaten and powerless in a room full of metal that he couldn't feel.

Erik decided to make an attempt to sit up, though he doubted that another position would be less painful. Somehow he succeeded and he found out that it really didn't matter if he was lying down or sitting, everything hurt either way. He was relieved to see that his legs were still working, so the blow to his back did not break his spine.

Erik whished he knew what day it was.

Did Charles, Hank and all the teachers and kids already return to the school?

Did the invisible mutant kill them, did he leave the mansion or was he still here? Would he kill them all in their sleep? Or did he capture them as well? What was his goal anyway?

What if Charles, Hank and the students were all back at the mansion and going about their lives as usual, not knowing that he was in here?

They probably think that he had just left them, to form a new brotherhood or something like that. Right?

Maybe the invisible mutant was hiding amongst them. It wouldn't be hard for him to stay undetected.

Ah, it drove him mad, not knowing what was happening outside his prison. Every single one of these assumptions could have already become reality or none at all. How could he draw attention to himself, if the one version with the kids being back at the mansion was true? It would be a waste of effort though if no one was around to notice anything, but still. He had to try.

It was clear to him that the boarded up window was out of the question. In his weakened state, he wouldn't even be able to leave a noticeable scratch on those wooden boards. Suddenly he saw something that he had completely forgotten about. There, on one of the shelves stood a full bottle of whiskey. An idea started to form. Erik knew it was a long shot, but he had nothing to lose.

* * *

Hank was in his lab, trying to focus on something, anything really, but he couldn't distract himself. The only thing he wanted to do, was sitting next to Charles, making sure that he wouldn't hurt himself, or even worse, kill himself. But Charles had made it quite clear, by shouting at him, that he wanted to be alone. The situation made Hank incredibly nervous. He was pacing up and down in the lab, thinking of an excuse he could use to go back to Charles' room, in order to check on him. He couldn't even come up with one, so he decided to walk around in the mansion and in doing so, he'd casually walk by the door to Charles' room a few times. Maybe he'd hear something that would excuse him entering. In a moment like this, Hank wished to possess telepathic powers as well. It would be a lot easier to know what was going on in Charles' head right now.

On his walk through the house, Hank thought about the twins again.

After he had been, well... thrown out of Charles' room, he had taken a shovel with him and had driven back to the place they had left the dead mutants behind. He had buried them right there and as deep as he could. Burning the bodies would have drawn too much attention and he didn't want to bring them with him to the mansion to do it there. It filled him with dread. Even burying them wasn't easy for Hank. But it was something that had to be done. He didn't want someone to stumble upon them and report the murder to the police, or even worse, the military finding them. Sooner or later they would realize that he and Charles were the ones who had helped Leila escape and that they were involved with their murder as well. No, it had to be done and Hank knew that. After that, he had spent a very long time in the shower, trying to feel clean, warm and safe again.

It was dawning already as Hank continued his walk through the mansion, but he didn't feel tired, he was too worried and too nervous for that. Suddenly he smelled something that made his hair stand on end. Whiskey! He recognized that specific smell instantly. It had surrounded Charles for years. Hank hated it.

But why did he smell it here in the corridor? He decided to follow the scent to its source, hoping that it wouldn't lead him to Charles' room.


	22. Chapter 22

It did not lead Hank to Charles' room, instead he found himself standing in front of the hidden door. To his feet was a small but steady growing puddle and clearly the liquid was coming from the metal room.

Oh, no!

Did Charles get in there to drink away the pain? Did the bottle fall to the floor, because he lost his consciousness? What if he had gotten a panic attack and Hank hadn't been there to help him? What if he died in there?

Hank was looking for his keys in panic. There were so many ways how Charles could have killed himself in there and he couldn't find his damn keys!

Where did he leave them?

Maybe in Charles' room?

He was running as fast as he could and when he stormed into his friends chamber, he stopped short. He didn't believe his own eyes. There in front of him was Charles, sitting in his wheelchair, staring at him as if HE were a ghost.

"Hank...what the...?"

"You're here..I thought you were...How are you here?", Hank stammered, "I mean...obviously you are here...but...are you? You've been in here the whole time, right?" He walked towards his friend and squeezed his shoulder just to check that he wasn't hallucinating and Charles was in fact sitting in front of him.

"Hank? You are frightening me. What is going on? Why are you being so weird?"

"There is whiskey coming out of the metal room and I can't find my keys and I thought you were in there and something bad has happened to you and I couldn't get to you because I have no keys, but...but you...", Hank spoke so fast that he almost stumbled over his own words but then he slowed down as it dawned on him that if Charles was here, someone else must be inside the metal room. "...you are here... So what is going on in that room? Why is there whiskey trickling out from under the hidden door?"

"WHAT?!"

This was a reaction Hank did not expect. Charles' eyes were wide open and he stared at him as if he just said that the house was burning or something like that. It made him quite nervous. He cleared his throat and he was about to say something, when Charles raised a hand to signal him to be quiet. It looked like he was concentrating, maybe trying to read someone's mind or...

"No, I'm not. I'm looking for something in Leon's memories. There was a whiskey bottle in the metal room, I put it there myself.

Ah, there it is. But it wasn't moved and it was still whole when Erik..."

All of a sudden, Charles looked like every drop of blood had been drained from him. As white as a sheet he whispered: "He's alive. He must be. How else did the bottle move?"

"What are you talking about?! " Now it was Hank's turn to look confused.

Instead of talking to him, Charles sent him a picture of Erik's lifeless body inside the metal room. At the same time he apologized for not telling him and also showed him where the whiskey bottle had been when Erik 'died.

This was a lot to process. Hank wasn't sure if he should be mad at Charles or not. And he had so many questions, but they all had to wait now. Except for one.

"But Charles...my keys are gone, what if someone took them and that someone is in there right now?"

"No, Hank. Leon took your keys days ago. You didn't notice that they were gone because you had no need for them at the lake house."

"Oh..."

"My key to the metal room is over there in my jacket. Can you get it please? We have to hurry."

Charles was shaking and barely able to manoeuvre his wheelchair, so Hank decided to push him, after grabbing the key. They hurried down the corridor towards the metal room. The scent of whiskey got stronger and stronger.

"There, do you see it. There's a puddle on the floor."

Charles nodded and said: "Quickly, open the door."

* * *

The first thing Charles noticed, was the smell. A mixture of the metallic odour of blood and the sharp smell of urine came through the half open door. Hank opened the door to the metal room completely and they both saw someone sitting on the floor leaning against the wall, holding a bottle of whiskey.

"Oh my god...", Charles gasped and he turned even paler, if that was at all possible.

The person in front of them was without a doubt Erik and he was alive, though he looked terrible. His lip was split, his nose definitely broken and both were probably the cause for his face to look so black and blue and swollen. There was so much blood. On his face, in his hair, on his clothes. Some of it was already dry but there was fresh blood as well, it came from a wound on the back of his head and trickled down the wall he was leaning his head against. Erik looked at them as if he expected them to vanish if he blinked, as if they were a figment of his imagination.

"Erik. You are alive...I'm SO sorry...I thought you were..." Charles stammered and couldn't finish the sentence. So many emotions came crashing down on him. He felt incredibly relieved and happy to see his friend breathing, but also ashamed and terrible that he hadn't gone to the metal room earlier. Because of him, Erik had had to spend longer than necessary in this room and also he could've died of his injuries during that time. And Charles realized that this could still happen. He looked at Hank and saw that his friend was thinking the same.

"I'm calling an ambulance", Hank said as he was running downstairs to find a phone.

Suddenly, Erik got agitated and he desperately tried to say something but his split and swollen lip and broken nose made it impossible for him to speak. He was weak and obviously in a lot of pain but that didn't stop him from slowly dragging himself over the threshold and out of the metal room. Erik was moaning and growling like a wounded animal but kept on crawling. Charles cursed. He hated to be so useless. He wanted to help Erik but since he was wheelchair-bound, he couldn't do anything else but watch. Though there was one thing he could do, Charles thought, he could enter Erik's mind and lessen his pain and find out what he had tried to say before.

Erik had crawled finally out of the metal room and collapsed on the corridor with a whimper. He was lying on his side and looked at Charles with a pleading look. Carefully, Charles entered Erik's mind and was greeted by something that could only be described as a mental sigh.

But then he saw the chaos. So many thoughts swirling through his friends' mind, so many feelings and pain was the most prominent one but there was also fear. But not for his own life, it was fear for Charles'. Erik was asking him questions and telling him things but the sentences were all scattered and incomplete and the words were either slurred or too fast, Charles didn't understand any of it.

He tried to calm him down, to ease his pain but suddenly Erik screamed at him.

 _'Don't!'_

 _'Why not? You are obviously in a lot of pain. Let me help you.'_

There was no answer only chaos again. It made Charles dizzy. He wanted to retreat when he felt that his body was swaying but he couldn't. It was as if Erik was desperately holding on to him inside his head.

 _'Erik, you need to calm down. I can't stay if you don't let me help you.'_

 _'No! Need the pain!'_

 _'Alright, I won't help you with the pain.'_

Suddenly the chaos somehow died down, it was still there but in the background and Charles could finally hear a clear sentence.

 _'You are real, right, you've come for me, freed me?'_

Charles responded: _'Yes, I am real and you are free. You have to hold on, help is on the way. We'll get you to a hospital.'_

 _'You have to watch out. There is an invisible mutant, he did this to me, he might be still here. He tortured me, almost killed me...he could do the same to you.'_

The chaos got louder again, the fear more intense.

 _'Please, Erik. Calm down. I know. His name is Leon, he is dead. He won't come back to hurt you...or me. It's over. You are safe now.'_

Erik was fighting really hard to calm his chaotic and at the same time very tired mind. It wanted to shut down, to sleep but he didn't let it. Somehow he was convinced that he had to stay awake, he did not feel safe yet. The storm inside him got a bit louder again and Charles could only hear snippets of sentences. Words fluttering around like butterflies.

 _'have no powers'_

 _'Charles'_

 _'what day is'_

 _'how long was I'_

 _'get me out'_

 _'So much pain!'_

 _'Charles'_

 _'you're real'_

 _'why'_

 _'tell me'_

 _'no hospital'_

 _'help me'_

 _'don't'_

 _'the police'_

 _'sleep!'_

 _'Calm down, Erik. I will tell you everything you want to know, but not now. Just know that you have nothing to fear. Leon is dead and you are free. Hank and I will come with you to the hospital and I'll make sure that no one will recognize you. We'll protect you.'_

This seemed to help and the hurricane inside Erik's head died down to a mild storm.

The ambulance must have already arrived because Hank came back again and two paramedics with a stretcher were following him. They examined Erik, made sure that it was save to carry him and then gave him something for the pain.

He didn't protest and the hurricane inside his mind didn't return either. He seemed to have realized that this was really happening, that he was in fact free. The paramedics lifted the stretcher up and started to walk down the stairs and towards the big entrance door.

Erik's eyes were suddenly wide open, so much despair visible in them, as the paramedics carried him further away from Charles. He reached out for Charles with his right hand. And inside Erik's mental storm, a few words stood out and almost silenced everything else: _'Don't leave me alone!'_

And before Charles could respond, something unexpected happened. His wheelchair suddenly started to float and followed the paramedics down the stairs without them noticing and for a brief moment, Charles smiled.


	23. Chapter 23

Charles was exhausted. To use his telepathy so excessively took a toll on him. He wasn't used to it anymore. To look inside a new students head, to see if the school was really the right place for him or her, to help a student with a problem or settle a dispute, all these things were easy for Charles but this...

For five days he had to be on constant alert. Paramedics, doctors, nurses, cleaning staff, patients and visitors, they all had to be convinced that they didn't see Magneto, that the man they were treating, passing by or checking up on, was someone else, someone they didn't know. Though Charles made them see a different face, the wounds and bruises on it had to look exactly the way they were, or else Erik wouldn't get the treatment he needed. It was a challenging task for Charles and he didn't get a lot of sleep during his friend's hospital stay. Well to be exact, the task itself wasn't challenging at all, piece of cake really, but the alertness it needed...that was the hard part about it. And it made him realize, that all the years using the serum and the months drifting by in a haze of alcohol and those past two years especially, hadn't gone by without leaving a mark regarding his health. He was weak and got tired a lot faster now, but also his mind wasn't as focused as it used to be. It took him so much effort not to get lost in his own thoughts and as a result forget to react when a nurse or doctor would enter the room. Thank god, Hank had been there as well. Without his help, Charles would've probably messed up on the first day. They both were lacking sleep but Hank was definitely handling it better than he was.

Charles was glad that the doctors had dismissed Erik this evening. They were sure that he would fully recover. The blow to his head hadn't resulted in a brain trauma but only in a concussion. Good news for once!

Hank was driving them back to the mansion now.

For the entirety of the hospital stay, Erik had been sleeping. The only times he'd been awake had been to eat something, to answer the questions of various nurses and doctors or to go to the toilet. But after all he had been through and the amount of painkillers in his system, it was no wonder he required sleep above all.

Charles was almost glad about it because it meant that he didn't had to talk about what happened to Leon and his sister, about the fact that Erik had had to suffer much longer than necessary because Charles had been too scared to enter the metal room. He knew of course that the moment would come, when he had to tell Erik everything but there was no need to do it right now.

And in those rare minutes Erik was awake, he didn't ask much about Leon. He asked, if Charles was real, if he was in fact out of the metal room and this wasn't a dream. He asked if Charles could tell him the date and time, but not once did he talk about what had happened to him in the metal room. Charles hoped that Erik hadn't restored this dark and confusing place in his mind, that he wouldn't push all the feelings he couldn't deal with aside again. Charles made a mental note to look for it, but not now and not without Erik's permission. They all needed rest and Charles was glad to see that they were passing the gate that led to the mansion.

He turned around and looked at Erik, who was sitting in the backseat and constantly trying to hide the pain his broken ribs were causing him. Hank was driving as carefully as he could but even he couldn't avoid every bump on the road. "I'm fine", Erik croaked, when he saw Charles' worried look. It didn't convince Charles, not in the least. Even under all the purple bruises on his face, it was clear to see that Erik was as pale as a ghost. Charles suggested that he should take some painkillers and then go to sleep. The fact that Erik didn't object to that, was proof enough that he was indeed anything but fine.

The kids and teachers were all back at the mansion again. After all, the vacation had ended a few days ago. Hank had been in touch with Serena the whole time and so she knew that they were coming home tonight. She had seen to it that there was a room ready for Erik. Charles had asked him if he wanted to share a room at the mansion but Erik had said that he wanted his own, that he needed time alone. Even though Charles respected that, it made him sad and his suspicion that Erik was creating another chaotic ball of unresolved feelings, grew.

Serena had also made sure, that none of the children would see the blood on the corridor. Hank had informed Charles that he had closed the door to the metal room before he had followed the paramedics in his own car and Charles was thankful for that. He really didn't want to have to explain the existence of a hidden room, that was pretty much covered in blood, not even to Serena. At least not right now.

Hank told Erik to wait in the car whilst he helped Charles into the wheelchair. But stubborn as he was, Erik opened the door and got out of the car without Hank's help. Pale, sweating and slightly swaying, he stood next to the entrance door, waiting for Hank and Charles to get there as well. It was almost unbearable for Charles to watch Erik forcing himself to hide the pain, trying so hard to show no weakness. He was among friends,... he was with him, for god's sake! He didn't have to pretend to be strong.

They entered the school together and Charles felt really glad to be back. There were some kids standing in the entrance hall, some walking by and some further down the corridor. They all paused and stared at them. Suddenly some of the younger students came running towards them. They welcomed the professor and Hank with laughter, hugs and constant questions. "You're back! How are you? Where have you been? What happened?" It made them both smile and they answered the questions as best as they could. Hank and Charles had agreed beforehand that they would tell the children that they had to leave the lake house so suddenly because they'd been asked to help catch a bad guy. Which was..kind of...the truth.

Charles tried to catch a glimpse of Erik, who had made a few steps to the side to get away from the turmoil. A little girl approached Erik, pointed at his face and asked him something. Charles had to concentrate to hear the question in all this noise. "Did the bad guy do this to you? Does it hurt?" Erik stared at her with a blank expression on his face and then simply walked past her and towards the stairs. Charles wanted to do something, say something, but the children didn't stop talking to him, so he reached out to Erik telepathically. _'Are you all right? Where are you going?'_ The snappy answer that came almost instantly, made Charles cringe. _'Get out of my head.'_ He retreated, although he wanted nothing more than to delve deeper into Erik's mind to find out what was going on.

The stream of questions the kids had, was endless and Charles and Hank were glad when Serena came and with her a few older students, who lured the kids away with the promise of a movie and popcorn in one of the living rooms.

"Where is Erik?", Serena asked, when the kids had finally left the entrance hall. "The room opposite of yours is ready for him. There is some water and painkillers on the bedside table. Do you want me to check on him before he goes to sleep? Or during the night?"

"Thank you so much for your help, Serena. I'll call you if he needs your help, but I think he just wants to be alone right now. He went upstairs already and I think I'm going to go to my room as well."

"All right, then. I'm so glad your back, both of you", Serena said with a smile and added: "I better go check what kind of movie the kids chose." And when she was far away enough, Hank whispered: "Where the hell did Erik go? He can't possibly know which room Serena prepared for him. We've only just heard ourselves. So what's he up to?"

Charles shook his head. "I don't know. He shut me out, told me to get out of his head."

"Maybe it's all too much for him. I mean...being back here...so close to the metal room."

"Maybe...well, let's go find him, so we can tell him which room he can stay in."

Hank nodded: "And then get some sleep. I really need some sleep...you too, by the way."

Charles smiled and said: "Yes, some sleep would be nice."

* * *

Erik was standing in front of the hidden door and closed his eyes. He could feel the metal in the room in front of him, the outline, the arches, the furniture, everything. He didn't even have to open the door to see it all in detail. He focused on the metal boards on the walls inside and started to rip them down, one by one, tearing them to shreds like mere wallpaper, making sure though, that the framed drawing of his mother remained intact.

He shaped some of the metal into crowbar-like tools and used them to free the window of the wooden boards and then opened the window as wide as possible. Erik noticed that he was shaking as he unlocked the door and stared at the remnant of his former metal prison. The smell and the look of his own, now dried blood on the floor made him feel nauseous. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the metal beneath and above him. There was no metal in between, except for the bookshelves on either side of the window. It wasn't a prison anymore, it wasn't telepath-proof anymore. He was free, alive and in control. It was so good to have his power back, to be able to manipulate metal again, to be in control again. He never wanted to feel as powerless and as helpless as he had felt a week ago.

So far, he and Charles had both successfully avoided to talk about the whole thing, though there had been one question on Erik's mind that he just hadn't been able to ignore.

How the hell did this invisible mutant manage to take away Erik's power? The answer had been very frightening, even though this Leila was now dead too, no one could tell if the military or some other organisation was in possession of her blood. What if, this very minute, someone was experimenting with it, trying to find a way to make the effect permanent? This would be the perfect weapon against mutantkind. This potential threat was way too dangerous to ignore. He would find the members of the Brotherhood who had survived the last battle, recruit some more and destroy this military facility once and for all. He would be more careful this time though and he would think of a way to trick and kill their telepath. He wouldn't spare anyone who worked for them, not even mutants.

Erik heard someone gasp. He opened his eyes again and turned his head to look at the open door. There stood Hank and right next to him was Charles in his wheelchair. The first seemed confused and the latter worried, and that resulted in the same old stupid question again: "Erik...is everything okay?"

He didn't know what to say. Even during the hospital stay, he couldn't answer that. Sure, physically, he was a wreak. Everything hurt, even breathing, walking around, sitting, lying down, it didn't matter what he did, he was in constant pain. The painkillers dulled it down a bit, but the pain just wouldn't leave him. And when it came to his emotions...he had no clue. He felt oddly numb and detached to it all. The only feeling that was lingering in the back somewhere, was anger. It was the old familiar anger he had known for ages. Anger towards the humans, towards those who used and mistreated mutants. But other than that...nothing. Normally this wouldn't concern him that much, but he was missing something he had felt the week before Leon had abducted, imprisoned and tortured him. He couldn't find this... well whatever he had felt, every time he had looked at, or simply thought about Charles. That feeling was gone. Somewhere deep down he found relief that his old friend was alive and well, but that was it.

Erik moaned inwardly.  
Emotions were just too complicated and besides, he was tired and in pain. He would try to make sense of it later.

Only now did Erik notice that Hank and Charles were still looking at him, waiting for an answer. Finally Charles cleared his throat and said: "You look tired. We can show you your room if you'd like. Serena told us which one she prepared."

Erik nodded but before he followed them, he picked up the drawing of his mother with his power, let it float into his hands and took it with him.

* * *

It was dark and then all of a sudden there was blinding white light, then it was dark again.

No, no, no, no...

Erik was wide awake in a matter of seconds and got out of bed as fast as he could.

To the wall!

The wall was safe, no attack from behind possible.

What was happening?

He couldn't be in the metal room again.

Leon was dead.

Charles had assured him that the invisible mutant was dead. He didn't say how he died though, but Erik had believed him nonetheless. Charles wouldn't lie to him, would he?

Or had his rescue and the time in the hospital been a dream then? All of it just a figment of his imagination? Mere wishful thinking?

The light was switched on and stayed on this time. He looked around in confusion.

Yes, this was the metal room all right, but it made no sense.

He had dismantled the bloody thing, torn it apart...no way this was the same room.

Suddenly, his hand touched something warm and sticky on the wall and Erik turned around to examine it.

Blood.

It was blood.

Letters on the wall, written in blood.

What the hell was going on here?

Erik made a few steps back to be able to read it.

It said: "Since you don't feel anything for Charles anymore, I thought you wouldn't mind if I played with him a bit. Unfortunately he broke way too fast."

There was a little arrow underneath the text, pointing to the right.

Erik's eyes were wide open in shock as he looked to the right and discovered an unmoving figure lying in a puddle of blood.

Charles!

Erik screamed at the top of his lungs.


	24. Chapter 24

Erik woke up, sweating and disoriented. After a few agonizing seconds, he realized that he was lying in his bed in the room Serena had prepared for him. It wasn't the metal room, he thought with a sigh. It had been a nightmare, probably caused by his visit to that prison moments before going to sleep. Might have been a stupid idea, but well...he had to destroy it, otherwise he wouldn't have even been able to fall asleep in the first place. Though right now, he wasn't sure if he could ever go back to sleep. He didn't want to risk having another nightmare like that. And besides, there was a voice whispering inside his head, telling him to go to Charles' room, to see if he was alive and well. Which was of course completely irrational. Leon was dead, the metal room was destroyed, nothing happened to Charles. It had been a nightmare.

Erik desperately tried to convince himself that everything was okay, that he didn't have to go and check on Charles.

It didn't work.

This was silly, he thought, but still, he couldn't shake it off. And so Erik got up and walked to the door, all the way cursing under his breath. He behaved like a child right now.

Dreams were dreams, there was no truth to them.

Erik opened the door and stepped out into the corridor. Suddenly the door, now behind his back, clunked shut and the corridor changed its appearance. Instead of wood, there was now metal, instead of semi-darkness, there was now bright white light. In a split second, Erik knew he was inside the metal room but that didn't mean that he knew why, let alone how this would even be possible, since the room was destroyed and most likely not connected to his new accommodation. Nevertheless, back again. Charles' dead body was still lying there. Erik couldn't look in that direction without feeling the overwhelming need to tear his own heart out.

No! He wouldn't lose his mind. He wouldn't lose control. This was just a dream. Nur ein Traum. Not the reality. He was still asleep. He did not wake up when he thought he did. This was simply another part of the nightmare he was having right now.

Right?

He would wake up soon, he was sure of it.

Erik faced the closed door, refusing to look at his friend's lifeless body or anything else inside the metal room. But even though Erik tried really hard to convince himself, that this was a dream, panic was about to pay him a visit. Because a part of him just didn't buy it. He still remembered the dream he had had with Charles in it. They both had been lying in a bed at the lake house. It had been perfect, so perfect and then Charles had told him to wake up...what if he was still asleep? Not in his new room but somewhere else? Back at the lake house maybe? In the woods? Or even worse, still inside the metal room and slowly dying?

His mind came up with the wildest reasons and explanations, the strangest speculations and theories. He even though of the possibility that it was Charles who was doing this to him. Mind controlling him, tricking him into believing that all this was really happening. Maybe even since the day Erik had arrived at the mansion, wounded and on the run. What if this was an act of revenge? Charles getting back at him? After all, it was Erik's fault that Charles was paralyzed.

Erik whimpered. He couldn't take this anymore. He wanted it to be over, all of it.

The room started to spin, and he didn't care.

He felt lightheaded and he didn't care.

His knees gave in and he still didn't care, even as his head hit the floor and he lost consciousness, Erik did not care.

* * *

With a gasp, Erik opened his eyes. He was lying in a bed. It was dark. The room wasn't made out of metal, that much he could detect in an instant. And slowly the rest came back to him as well. This was his first night at the mansion. Neither was he in the hospital, nor inside the metal room anymore.

Or was he?

Who could tell?

What if he was still dreaming?

What if he was still being manipulated?

Erik knew exactly how he could rule out the latter. Though it wouldn't help much if he was in fact still dreaming or somehow locked up inside his own mind. But what the heck, he needed it. He felt all too vulnerable at the moment.

When Erik got up, he noticed that his clothes were drenched in sweat, even the bedclothes felt damp. He started to shiver immediately but didn't bother to change his clothes. It would've taken him too long and...well...getting out of a shirt with broken ribs and a broken hand, wasn't that much fun.

Erik headed to the door and hesitated a bit before he stepped out into the corridor. He feared that the setting would change again, that he would be back inside the metal room, that he would see Charles' dead body again, but nothing happened. It was a good thing but unfortunately not proof enough that this was reality. Though Erik realized right now, that his body hurt much more than it had the last time he'd been wandering about in the dark. Maybe this was reality after all. His head started to hurt from all these maybe's and what if's that were swirling around inside his mind. He had to focus on the task at hand. He knew he would feel better if it was in his possession again and it had to be here somewhere.

Erik followed the corridor without a particular destination. He was mapping out the mansion inside his mind, sensing all the metal that had been used to build this impressive building years ago. It didn't take him long and when he was done with that, he started to look for the thing he needed, scanning every room carefully for that one object until he found it.

It was lying on a table in a room filled with computers and monitors. Erik had no intention to walk there, he was exhausted already, so he used his power to open a window inside this computer room and let the object float soundlessly out of the window and into the darkness of the night. Soon, the object appeared in front of the window right next to him and Erik opened it without much effort, using his power to do so.

Finally, he held it in his hands once more. It felt heavy and cold but he didn't mind. It sang to him. The old familiar metallic hum. Distinctive and beautiful. Erik sighed as he put the metal helmet on.

It felt good, it felt safe but...nothing happened. If this was reality, then no one was manipulating him, which was a positive thing. Unfortunately, it didn't rule out that he was still dreaming.

How could he confirm that he was awake?

Proof.

He needed proof that...for instance Charles was still alive and that Leon was dead.

So Erik headed for Charles' room, unlocked the door with his power and entered without being heard. It was dark and silent. Erik looked for the bed and saw that someone was lying in it but couldn't distinguish if it was really Charles.

Suddenly the room was filled with white light and it was so bright that it hurt Erik's eyes. He had to close them and instinctively moved backwards to the wall, so that no one could attack him from behind. Then, it was dark again and Erik dared to open his eyes. To his relief, he found that he was still in Charles' room and not back at the metal prison.

He noticed that he was sweating and shivering at the same time but tried to ignore it as best as he could.

He had to see Charles, had to know that he was alive...but he didn't want to leave the wall, it was his only protection.

Erik slowly walked alongside the wall, until he got a better angle to see who was lying in the bed.

What he saw in front of him, made him feel paralyzed, he couldn't move an inch. His legs suddenly seemed to have no strength left in them and he slowly slid down along the wall until he sat on the floor.

Charles was dead.

He was lying in his bed, covered in blood. Some of it was even dripping onto the floor next to the bed, creating a little dark coloured puddle. He could smell it, the iron in it...

Erik heard someone sob and realized that it was him. His whole body was shaking uncontrollably and he was sobbing and crying so hard it hurt, but he couldn't stop.

To Erik's horror, the dead Charles suddenly started to stir and even sat up.

"Oh my god...Erik? Is that you? Erik?"

It was a gruesome sight and almost too much for Erik. Charles had only one eye, the other seemed to be missing, only a gaping red hole was to be seen. His skull must have been bashed in with something, because it was obviously cracked open. It appeared, his face had suffered a similar fate, something hard must have hit it as well. There wasn't much left to tell that this had once been Charles Xavier, but Erik knew...ke knew. This was Charles, but he was dead. So why was he talking to him and why was he...? Terror washed over Erik once again, when he saw that this corpse dropped to the floor and started to crawl towards him.

"Erik. Please calm down. What is going on?"

It sounded so much like Charles, but a dead body couldn't talk, couldn't move...so this was another dream then? He was still dreaming, captured in an endless nightmare. Withering away inside the metal room.

The corpse was still moving towards him and Erik couldn't take it any longer, it was too horrifying.

He covered his eyes with his hands and screamed.


	25. Chapter 25

Crawling all the way from the bed had been utterly exhausting, especially since the muscles in his arms didn't even deserve to be called muscles. But the fact that Erik was in Charles' room right now, sitting on the floor, shivering, crying and even screaming like a scared little kid, had made it crystal clear that there was something very amiss.

Charles had woken up, because he had heard someone sob and although the moonlight had helped him to distinguish a human figure sitting on the floor, he hadn't been able to tell who it was. Not even with his telepathic powers, which had given him the first hint though. Charles didn't know how or when his friend had come by this wretched helmet again. Erik had been wearing it the night he'd been abducted but Charles couldn't remember seeing it in the metal room. Leon must have left the helmet behind somewhere inside the mansion, where Erik had found it again. As soon as Charles had realized whose sobs he'd been hearing, there had been only one thought inside his mind; he had to get to Erik as fast as possible. Getting into the wheelchair would have taken too much time and so he'd decided to crawl.

"Please, Erik. Calm down. It's just me. Don't you recognize me?" Charles was now sitting right next to Erik, leaning against the wall as well.

"You're dead!"

"What? No. I'm not dead Erik. Come on, take your hands down. Look at me. I'm not dead." Charles tried to sound as calm and as soothing as possible. Which wasn't an easy thing to do, since he himself was anything but calm. He had seen Erik cry before, yes, but never like this.

Erik did not do what Charles had asked him to do. Instead he muttered:

"This isn't real, this isn't...you are...I'm still asleep, I'm dreaming...a nightmare, yes, a nightmare, just like before...I have to wake up...wake up, right now...WAKE UP!" He screamed the last two words so unexpectedly that it made Charles flinch.

"Erik, listen to me, please. This is real, you are not asleep. Come on, look at me", Charles pleaded but nothing happened and so he carefully grabbed Erik's right wrist. His friend winced at the touch.

"Hey...I won't hurt you, Erik. Can you feel the warmth of my hand? I am alive, I am real. This is reality."

Finally Erik lowered his hands and even opened his eyes to look at Charles. The telepath could see how fear gave way to confusion.

"You are a...but I saw you...you were dead...this is impossible...If this is reality, then someone must be manipulating my mind."

"But you are wearing your helmet. No one can manipulate your mind."

"Maybe this is an illusion as well...maybe I just THINK I'm wearing it."

"Erik..."

He didn't listen and kept on mumbling things that made no sense to Charles:

"You'll disappear any second and I'll be back there, or in my bed. And you'll be dead and it will go on and on..."

"Erik!" Charles shouted this time, to get his friends attention. It worked.

Then he pressed Erik's right hand against his own chest, so he could feel Charles' heartbeat.

"Do you remember? The night after we had shared our thoughts, our pain about being apart for so long, not knowing whether the other one was alive or not? We slept like this, remember? Your hand on my chest, feeling my heartbeat. I was alive back then and I am alive right now. This is reality Erik. ...And right now I am afraid of losing you."

Erik didn't say a word but he stared at him in disbelief and so Charles continued.

"Yes, I am. Because I don't know what's going on inside your head. I don't know what's happening. I wake up and find you here, in the middle of the night, scared and crying. I've never seen you like this. And it frightens me."

Erik lowered his gaze and said almost inaudible: "Me too."

Charles wasn't sure if he'd heard it right. Did Erik just say that he was frightened as well? If so, why would he be?

It drove Charles crazy that he didn't know what was going on inside Erik's head, that he couldn't even catch a glimpse to get a hint why his friend was behaving this way. It wasn't the first time that Charles cursed Shaw's invention. That helmet should've been thrown into a fire long ago. Looking back on all that had happened in the past few weeks, Charles couldn't understand how he'd ever come up with the idea of building an entire room made out of that same metal. What had he been thinking?! It was good, that Erik destroyed it and the helmet shouldn't exist either.

For a brief moment, Charles considered to rip that thing off his friend's head himself but then he noticed something. Erik wasn't crying anymore, though the look on his face when he raised his head again, was deeply unsettling.

Erik seemed forlorn but at the same time driven. Desperate and determined at once, like he knew he had to do something he hated or was even afraid of, but realised that it had to be done.

"Show me", he said with a trembling voice.

"What?" Charles did not understand what Erik wanted from him. To his surprise, his friend took the helmet off as he answered.

"Show me everything you know about Leon and his sister. Show me everything that went on, while I was locked up. Show me how he died. I need to know it, Charles, every detail, please don't leave anything out. But otherwise...leave my head alone."

Well of course Charles knew that this moment had to come one day. It was inevitable. They had to talk about it. But right now? No explanation as to why Erik was acting so strange? Though at least the helmet was off his friend's head, even if Charles wasn't allowed to read Erik's mind, it was still a relief just to feel that it was there.

"Why now? Can't it wait until tomorrow? I'm really tired. And you should get some sleep, too."

"NO!" Erik shouted so loud it made Charles flinch. "I can't go to sleep. You said this is reality. I don't want to lose it again. Show me. Now."

It made no sense to Charles. Why was he so afraid of going back to sleep? He had said something about a nightmare earlier though, maybe that was the reason why.

Even though Charles was exhausted and not quite so eager to get to the part of the story where he had to explain why he didn't enter the metal room sooner or the part that explained how Leon and his sister died, he nodded.

"But Erik, do you really want to see everything? Even how he tortured you? I don't think that's..."

"Every detail. Everything you know."

This couldn't be a good idea. Especially when Erik was on edge and agitated to begin with.

"Don't you want to explain first what's going on with you? Why are you in my room? Why did you think that I was dead and that this wasn't reality?"

"No."

"That's all? 'No'? Just like that? And I'm supposed to accept that?"

"For now, yes. Please, Charles, I need to know." The pleading look that Erik gave him, was something so rare that Charles finally gave in. It was without a doubt very important to his friend, so he wouldn't ask any further questions and even though he still thought that it was a stupid idea to do that right now, he wouldn't leave anything out.

And so he closed his eyes and entered Erik's mind, carefully and anxious not to pry. He showed him everything out of his own and Hank's perspective. How Charles had noticed in the morning at the lake house that Erik was gone, how Hank had found Charles, how they all had been looking for Erik and how Hank had found the video tape.

As requested he showed him every detail. The torture, Leon's voice on the tape, the envelope with the information, the gruesome history of the twins, and finally how they got Leila out of the military facility. Charles also let Erik know what he had felt during that time and what his thoughts were, so he would understand how he could...how he was able to...to murder the twins in such a gruesome way. And of course to explain why he didn't enter the metal room sooner.

There were tears running down his cheeks, but he couldn't help himself. Showing all this to Erik was like reliving it again. He would never forget the second he saw Erik's dead eyes in Leon's memory.

Charles heard Erik moan when he showed him the inside of Leon's mind. All the things he had done in the past and how he had wandered around in the mansion for days undetected, how he had stolen Hank's key, abducted Erik and finally how he had tortured him.

When he showed him the harrowing murder of the twins, Charles was...not prying, no...just being more perceptive. He was after all inside Erik's mind, picking up one or two things accidentally wasn't prying. He needed to know what his friend was thinking about all this. It astonished him that there was no disgust about what Charles had done, no fear of what he was capable of, instead there was satisfaction that the twins were dead but also a tiny shred of doubt that it might not be true. Charles retreated again, he didn't want Erik to find out that he'd been a bit deeper inside that he was allowed to.

Finally, Charles showed him the last part. The part where Hank had buried the twins bodies and Charles had been too afraid to enter the metal room, because he was a coward, yes a coward. And he apologized to Erik for leaving him in there, for letting him suffer, because of his own cowardice. He hadn't been the one who had rescued him. It had been Hank, who had noticed the whiskey and freed him.

Charles wanted to apologize again but all of a sudden, he was brutally shoved out of Erik's mind. As if someone had built a wall between them in a matter of seconds. A metal wall. Charles gasped and opened his eyes. In the dim moonlight he saw that Erik was wearing the helmet again and he was looking straight at Charles. He seemed oddly calm and collected. Only the tears on his face were proof that he'd been behaving completely different moments ago.

"Don't apologize for that and you are not a coward. I have to go now. I have to do something."

"What...?"

But before Charles could say anything further, two metal candleholders were floating towards him, changing their shapes while doing so. Then like something liquid, the metal wrapped itself gently around Charles' torso and legs. He was lifted off the floor and like sitting in a wheelchair without wheels, he floated towards his bed. There the metal laid him down and left him again, changing back into candleholders, looking just the way they had before. It was impressive and beautiful and Charles could hardly tear his eyes away from it. When he did, he saw that Erik was already standing by the door. Before he left and closed the door behind him, he said: "Thank you. Go back to sleep."

Charles couldn't believe what he just heard.

Sleep?

Seriously?

As if he could fall asleep after all this!

And while Erik was wandering around doing god knows what?

No, he had to find out what the heck was going on here.

* * *

He knew everything now. That was a good feeling. His head felt a bit clearer. He was closer to reality now.

Charles was alive.

He must have had a flashback, or some kind of hallucination back then, maybe he hadn't been fully awake yet, still with one foot inside the nightmare.

But now he knew that he was awake. He had felt Charles' heartbeat, had heard him cry whilst he'd showed him every single detail of what had happened.

This was reality.

He just needed one last thing to do.

One thing that would make it impossible to be afflicted by doubts in the future.

On his way out, Erik looked for a lighter with his power and found one in the kitchen. He let it float into his hand while exiting the mansion. In front of him was Hank's car and he could feel that there was a shovel lying in the trunk, as well as a can of gasoline.

Perfect.

It wasn't hard for Erik to open the car and start the engine without the key and so soon he was driving away from the mansion and towards the place where Hank had buried the twins' bodies.


	26. Chapter 26

One night, just one night. Was that too much to ask?

Just one night without anything happening, so that he could sleep. For once!

Hank tried to stay awake while he drove the car. It would be a bad idea to wrap it around a tree, not very healthy, no.

Man, he was tired!

Maybe talking would help.

"Where is he going? And why did he take my car?"

"I don't know, Hank. He just said that he had to do something. But I have a feeling that he's going to the place where you've buried the twins. I think he wants to see for himself, you know, to be sure that they're really dead. But I could be wrong. If we don't find him there, well..."

Charles was sitting next to him in one of the buses they had used to drive to the lake house.

Ah, the school trip, it seemed so long ago. Hank had been so excited about that trip and it had turned into such a nightmare. A nightmare that didn't seem to end.

What was Erik up to now? Couldn't he just sleep, like a normal person who was recovering?

That man was a menace!

Hank sighed. He wanted to ask Charles why they had to go after him, why they wouldn't just leave him alone, let him do his thing, but he knew that those questions were superfluous.

Hank didn't have to be a telepath to know that Charles was worried and that he would not find any sleep until he knew were Erik was and what he was doing.

Suddenly he saw something in the distance. A bright flickering light. Maybe a fire?

"What is he doing? Burning the bodies?", Hank couldn't believe it!

What was Erik thinking! Burning the bodies of murdered mutants in the middle of the night, so that everyone could see it?! If drawing attention was his goal, then bravo, good job!

Hank had thought it all through, had been so carful and then this stupid mutant comes along and decides to make a nice bonfire for everyone to see. Great!

"Charles! If someone reports the fire..."

"I know. I'm already checking the area, but so far no one has noticed it. And I'll see to it that no one will."

At least that was under control for now. Hank took a deep breath and stopped the car in a safe distance of the impressive fire. Erik must've used up all the spare gasoline that had been in the trunk of Hank's car. Well, he would have to pay that, Hank thought, while getting out of the car and helping Charles into his wheelchair. Together they went over to Erik, who was standing motionless in front of the fire. He stared into the flames and didn't show any sign whether he noticed that someone else had joined him or not.

Hank saw that Erik was wearing his helmet again.

How and when did he get that thing back?

It made him look like a cold hearted despot, like someone who didn't care if the world crumbled underneath him and thousands would perish because of his decisions. Which...was the truth.

That man standing in front of the fire was exactly like that.

That man was Magneto.

However, in the past few days, Hank had seen a different version of Magneto, the old version. Erik Lehnsherr. A man with fears and doubts, always hiding his insecurities behind a wall of anger. Trying to keep everyone at bay so they wouldn't see too much, wouldn't know too much.

It hadn't worked with Charles though.

He had disregarded all warnings and had walked past all the keep out signs. Hank still couldn't decide to this day if it had been a good or a bad thing. Sure Charles had shown Erik that there was love and friendship and happiness but he had shown him how to unlock his true potential as well and thus making him even more powerful and dangerous.

Might have been counterproductive...

But what the heck, to muse about the past wouldn't bring Hank anywhere close to his bed and sleep again, so there was no use.

Instead he should try and speed things up a little so that they all could return to the mansion as quickly as possible.

"Nice bonfire, Erik. Is there a rational explanation for your decision to dig the twins bodies up again? I mean, it took me quite a while to bury them. And it was the safest option by the way. Stealthy, silent, with no trace, whereas your fire..."

Erik interrupted Hank without averting his eyes from the fire. In a cold and calm tone he said: "You should've used your head."

"Excuse me?" Hank frowned.

"You're so smart, how could you fail to see that it is absolutely necessary to burn their bodies...well, Leila's body?"

"Why? She's dead. Or does she have some kind of regenerative power I didn't know of?"

Now Erik turned around and looked at Hank. His voice was no longer calm and steady.

"Am I the only one who sees the danger?! It is screaming at you, it is painfully obvious but you still don't realize it, do you?! You think this is over? You think because you buried her body, all is well? You know what her blood did to me. I was powerless, helpless...human. This woman has been in the hands of the military for god knows how long. And as much as I hope that they didn't find out how her blood could be used against mutants, I'm not naive. Of course they figured it out. Her body has to be reduced to ash, so that no one can get any kind of blood or tissue sample from her ever again. How could you fail to see that, smart boy?"

Hank had to admit that Erik was right, he hadn't thought about the possibility that someone could dig up Leila's body to get to her blood. But the words Erik used, the condescending tone, the arrogant look he gave him...

Oh, Hank wanted to punch him as hard as he could!

"Not everyone can be as paranoid as you are!", he said while trying hard to resist the urge to get violent.

"There is no need for a fight", Charles chimed in. "Erik, you have to forgive us for not seeing this threat. The past days had been hard. I guess Hank and I were both simply too exhausted to notice."

Erik lowered his head, turned around and continued staring into the flames. No apology, not a single word...

Hank was thinking about throwing something at Erik, when he heard Charles' voice inside his head.

 _"Please don't. Even though right now I would love to throw something at Erik as well, but it won't do any good. He is upset and confused and he tries to hide it by being aggressive and offensive. But as long as this stupid helmet is on his head, I won't be able to tell what bothers him. I hope he'll talk to me of his own accord."_

Hank sighed and nodded. Even in his telepathic voice Charles couldn't hide that he was worried about Erik.

"We should go back to bed. I think we all lack sleep. Let's return to the mansion", Charles said and then added hesitantly: "Erik, will you come back with us?"

Erik still stared into the flames when he answered: "Go ahead. I have to watch the fire and make sure that nothing will be left of them."

And so Hank and Charles returned to the mansion and finally could go back to bed. Hank was glad about that because he knew that after a good night's sleep, he would be able to face Erik again without feeling the need to tear the man's head off. If he came back to stay at the mansion, that is.

While driving back to the school, Charles had told Hank that he was afraid that Erik wouldn't be around in the morning.

Maybe he would get his things and take off during the night or early in the morning. Since they had returned from the hospital, Erik's behaviour had been very strange. He had been distant and cold and hours later he'd been in panic and crying. And just now at the fire, he had been cold and aggressive. It was hard to tell what would happen next and Hank shared Charles' fear.

But not because he was worried about Erik or anything like that, no. Hank only cared for Charles and if Erik decided to leave Charles again, it would probably end in the ultimate disaster. Hank assumed that his friend would blame himself for all the horrible things that would happen to Erik in the future and probably for all the bad things Erik would do to others as well. Even though Leon would have found another room to torture Erik in, Charles would see that differently. He would say that what happened to Erik was his fault as well. After all, he had created it; a telepath-proof prison, the metal room.

* * *

Erik was alone again. Alone with his thoughts. He could breathe again, because his thoughts weren't as frightening as before.

The twins were now reduced to ash.

They would never return.

No one was manipulating him and this was reality.

Yes.

Everything was the way it should be. And yet...

He still didn't feel right. But it wasn't overwhelming like the fear he had felt before, it was...strange.

If he had to describe the feeling he would say that it felt like a hole existed inside of him, a black hole that took something away from him. Something concerning Charles.

Erik sighed.

The pain in his ribcage got more intense. Even though, thanks to his power to manipulate metal, he hadn't had to lift a finger to dig up and set fire to the twins, he was exhausted. His broken ribs and broken hand were protesting, telling him to go back to bed.

The fire had died down and Erik turned around and walked towards the car. He was still a little bit afraid of sleeping, even though he knew now that he had been dreaming before and that it hadn't been someone else manipulating his mind and that he wasn't inside the metal room anymore. It had only been a nightmare.

The thought of lying down on his bed was very alluring. But there were other thoughts as well, nagging him about Leila's blood.

Of course the military would still have some of it somewhere.

Were they experimenting with it already?

How far had they come with it?

Was it already used as a weapon against mutants?

What if Erik would be too late?

Leila had been imprisoned there for years.

Well, he knew one thing: he would track down and destroy every ounce of Leila's blood that still existed somehow, somewhere. And of course he would start with tearing down that damn military facility that had destroyed his Brotherhood.

But for that he needed a plan, a very good plan.

Erik got into the car and started the engine.


	27. Chapter 27

He did not want to get up, he did not want to eat breakfast, brush his teeth, go to the classroom and teach. He just couldn't find the strength today. How he had found it in the first place was a mystery to him. He had been teaching for the past three days, not because everything was alright and back to normal, no. It had been an attempt to distract himself, to occupy his mind so that he wouldn't think about Erik or alcohol for that matter. He had dragged himself through the days, smiling, pretending...Yes, yes, everything was fine, it was all good now, the bad guys were dead, the kids were all safe, the school was still standing, Erik was still here...yes, everything was perfect, except that it wasn't. Charles felt like he had no right to be sad though, since all he ever wanted was for Erik to stay and it had really happened. Erik had returned to the mansion that night, he hadn't left him and yes, he was still here. But the way Erik was behaving was somehow hurting Charles as much as it would've, if he had left.

Erik wasn't talking to him and was wearing that cursed helmet at all times. How he managed to sleep in that thing was a mystery to Charles. Or maybe he wasn't sleeping at all. Charles wouldn't know that, would he.

Erik locked himself up in his own room during the day, only at night would he leave the room to go for a walk in the garden that surrounded the mansion. Charles had seen him through the eyes of the students that he'd passed by and he had once even tried to speak to Erik through a student that was standing closest to him. But to no avail. Erik had simply turned around and had walked in another direction.

Erik was avoiding Charles very thoroughly and...it hurt.

It hurt more than words could've hurt him or even Erik's absence.

Because that was exactly what made it nearly unbearable. To know and see that Erik was here at the mansion, to be so close but at the same time so far away. Something was not how it should be inside Erik's mind. Something was troubling him, making him stay away from Charles. And it drove the telepath almost crazy that he wasn't able to see inside Erik's head. That he couldn't find out what was causing the detachment.

What if it was because of the metal room?

Because Charles had been too much of a coward to free Erik sooner?

Was Erik mad at him?

It was unfair, really. The week before Erik had been abducted had been the best in Charles' entire life. They had been so close to each other, they had trusted each other, but now...?

It felt as if they were back to square one.

Charles sighed when he heard that someone opened the door.

Hank.

Of course it was Hank.

Good old, Hank.

He was always worried about him, looking out for him and Charles appreciated it. Without him, he wouldn't even be alive anymore. But right now, he wanted to be alone.

"Charles? Are you still asleep? You should be teaching right now, the students are waiting for you." Hank got closer to the bed. "Charles?"

"Yes, Hank. I know", that came out a tad too aggressive and Charles quickly added: " I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Are you sick? Should I get Serena?"

"No, I'm fine. I just don't feel up to it. I can't concentrate."

"It's because of Erik."

"No."

Hank shot a disapproving glance at Charles, before he frowned and said: "Really? You expect me to believe that?"

Well, Charles couldn't fool Hank. They knew each other like the back of their hands. It was impossible to hide something from Hank without using his telepathy, so why did he try anyway?

Hank continued: "I've been keeping an eye on him because I still don't trust him and so I know that his behaviour is...erm...off. He's avoiding you... and everyone else for that matter. And I guess you haven't been able to talk to him telepathically either?"

"No. He won't let me. He won't take the helmet off."

"Hmm...", was Hank's reply to that. He turned around and walked towards the door.

"What's that suppose to mean? And where are you going, Hank?" There was no response. Hank seemed to be absorbed in thought.

"Hank?" Charles asked again, though louder.

"Oh, sorry. Yes, erm...I'm gonna talk to Erik."

This time it was Charles who frowned. That sounded rather ominous. What was Hank up to?

* * *

Those two were unbelievable, especially Erik!

At first Hank had thought that, since Charles was teaching again, everything was somehow okay between the two of them. That they were talking to each other through Charles' telepathic powers. But now...knowing that Erik was being an absolute arsehole again...

Come on! Wearing that helmet for days on end? And ignoring Charles completely? How could he? What was his problem? A few weeks ago Charles and Erik had finally overcome their differences,...well some of them..., and they had seemed very happy together. Why not go back to that? Well, sure, Erik had been through a lot in the past week but the villains were dead, Erik was rescued and even his mutant powers were restored.

Hank saw no reason for Erik to behave that way. It was unnecessary, rude and above all, it was hurting Charles. This could not be tolerated. Whatever Erik's problem was, he had to deal with it today...or else Hank would make him.

The door to Erik's room was locked and Hank knew that knocking and calling Erik's name would get him nowhere. He and Serena had tried that a few times in the past days but to no avail. Serena had wanted to keep an eye on Erik's injuries, to make sure that they would heal well but it had turned out to be quite impossible to do so. Charles wasn't the only one Erik was avoiding. So Hank knew that being nice wouldn't get him inside that room and to be honest, he was done with being nice anyway.

So without thinking twice, Hank broke the door down and stumbled into Erik's room. It was dark and it smelled like the windows had not been opened in the past three days. The daylight coming in through the open door was enough for Hank to see that the bed was untouched and that no one was sitting in the armchair or at the desk. Where was he?

"Erik?"

No response. Of course not. What did he expect? But still, Erik had to be in here.

So Hank called Erik's name again but this time louder. He heard a groan, followed by an annoyed "What?". The voice had come from the left half of the room but it was too dark over there to see anything. Hank went back to the door and switched the light on. That was commented by another groan. Hank walked around the bed and then he saw him.

Erik was sitting on the floor in one corner of the room, leaning against the wall, still wearing the helmet. He didn't look very good. The bruises on his face were fading but had been replaced by dark circles around his eyes . He was pale and he seemed...well, yes, he seemed weak.

"I've finally been able to fall asleep, for Christ's sake. Did you break down the door just to stare at me?" Erik slurred his speech and his voice was hoarse, probably because he hadn't been talking to anyone for three days.

Half of the anger that had been building up inside of Hank just a few minutes ago, vanished now into thin air. He did not expect this. Hank had been prepared for a fight, maybe even a physical one but now that he saw Erik, weak and clearly troubled by something that wouldn't even let him sleep properly, he was at a loss. So he did the only thing he could think of, he cut to the chase right away.

"I'm here because I want you to talk to Charles. You have to. It can't continue like this. You hiding in here and avoiding everyone and Charles...well, I fear that he's just decided to do the same. And I can't let him do that. So this is what's going to happen now. You are going to get up, you're going to walk over to Charles' room, you're going to sit down on the chair next to his bed and you are going to talk to him. Don't look at me like that, Erik. I mean it. I will make you do it if I have to."

Erik shook his head in disbelief and several metallic objects in the room started to float towards him. "You wouldn't be able to make me do anything."

"I would try, but seriously Erik, what is going on with you? Don't you remember the days at the lake house? You and Charles were practically inseparable. What happened?"

"That is none of your business."

"You're right. And you know what? I don't care. I don't care what's going on inside your twisted mind. I don't even want to know a single thing. But if you're behaviour is hurting Charles...again!...that makes it my business. The last time you left him, he almost died because of what he did to himself. Do you think I want to go through that again? Do you think I want to lose him?!"

Hank almost shouted the last words and he could feel himself getting irrationally angry, so he took a deep breath to calm himself.

Suddenly all the metallic objects, that had been floating in the air to threaten Hank, were now falling to the floor and he saw how Erik struggled to get up. Hank wasn't sure what to do, so he waited until Erik was standing. He was panting and seemed even paler than before. For a second Hank thought that Erik was about to faint but then, slowly, he started walking towards the door, keeping a hand on the wall for balance.

What was Erik doing? Was he walking away from him to avoid a discussion or a fight? Or would he go to Charles? That would be wishful thinking, right? It couldn't have been so easy to persuade Erik to go and talk to Charles. So when Hank asked Erik where he was going, he didn't expect to hear: "I'll do what you want me to do."

Hank frowned. That did not sound right. It seemed as if Erik did it only to make Hank shut up, as if he just wanted to get it done as quickly as possible, so he could go back to his room again and not because he cared about Charles.

What the hell was going on in that man's head?

Well, Hank thought, he would not leave Charles alone with that maniac. Not even for a second.

And so he followed Erik who was already entering Charles' room.


	28. Chapter 28

What in god's name did Hank say to Erik?

The man who had avoided him for three days was now sitting on a chair only a few inches away.

How did that happen?

To say that Charles was surprised would have been the understatement of the year. He was completely lost for words and realized after a few second that he was staring at Erik with his mouth open. He probably looked like a fool at the moment but he couldn't help himself. He had not expected that Erik would simply walk into this room, take a chair and sit down next to the bed but... here he was.

Though Erik didn't seem very happy about it. He looked tired and somehow...annoyed?

Oh, how Charles wished for that stupid helmet to vanish into thin air!

The telepath averted his eyes and tried to clear his head, to find something to say to Erik. He noticed that Hank had entered the room as well but he had stayed right next to the door and was simply observing Erik in silence. When Charles asked him telepathically what was going on, Hank responded: _'I told him to come here...but Charles...something's not right. I don't know what's going on but he is being way creepier than usual. I won't leave you alone with him.'_

The moment Charles wanted to thank Hank telepathically, he heard Erik clear his throat.

"Why aren't you teaching today?"

Erik asked that question in an accusatory way.

There was no concern, no warmth in his voice.

Charles fought the urge to shout at Erik.

How could he talk to him like that?

Like he was a kid, skipping school.

He knew it was typical for his friend to hide his own pain behind aggression but Charles' patience was wearing thin.

Three days!

For three days no word from Erik and this was the first thing he said to him?! Really?!

"Why did you ignore me for the past days?" Charles could play the accusing-game, too.

"So that's the reason then? You won't teach the kids because I ignored you. Where's the logic in that?"

"Oh, because hiding in one's room all day is more logical? And wandering through the mansion at night like a ghost as well? And avoiding the people who care about you? Yeah, that behaviour is very logical. You're a role model, Erik."

This fight was childish and unnecessary, Charles knew that of course but he couldn't help himself. How could Erik behave like that? So arrogant and cold. That man drove him crazy!

"Just like you then, I guess. The kids can really look up to a professor who's an alcoholic."

Charles could feel how his face turned red with anger.

"At least I am not wearing a metal bucket on my head for days on end, because I'm afraid of a certain telepath. I mean, seriously, how do you sleep in that thing?"

The atmosphere inside the room changed immediately. As if someone flipped a switch, the tension disappeared. Erik's shoulders slumped, he looked down to the floor and said, barely audible: "I don't."

Charles would have expected a fit of rage or another spiteful remark but not this. All of a sudden, Erik looked like he was too tired to fight.

"You don't...what?"

"I don't sleep. I can't."

The anger that Charles had felt mere seconds ago, vanished in the blink of an eye. He couldn't stay mad at Erik not when he seemed so lost and troubled.

"Why?"

"I don't know. Something is missing. I can't put a finger on it but I know it should be there but it isn't there anymore. It's exactly like seeing something in the corner of the eye but when you turn around it's gone. But I know...I know it was there. I can't find it and it drives me crazy and I can't sleep because I have to find it. I can't focus on anything else, I've tried but it's no use..."

"Erik, Erik, please...", Charles had to interrupt his friend, "I don't understand what you're talking about. What is missing?"

Erik raised his head and looked at Charles. He seemed to be confused and unable to cope with this question. He frowned and after a while he said: "I don't know how to answer that." Those words were spoken in a way that indicated that Erik just realized right now, that he had been looking for something in the past three days that he couldn't even name.

"Well, is it an object?"

"No."

"A memory then? Something you forgot?"

Erik shook his head. "No...I think it is something I felt...", he hesitated and looked at Hank for a split second. "Does he have to be here?"

Charles heard Hank snort and thinking: _"Oh, I'm not going anywhere. Not as long as he's wearing the helmet."_

A thought crossed Charles' mind and he immediately acted upon it. Because maybe, just maybe it would work.

"He's not gonna leave me. Not as long as you are wearing that helmet. You have not been yourself lately and Hank is here to protect me."

"Are you afraid of me?" Erik asked tentatively. From the look on his face, Charles could tell that his friend was surprised and shocked at the same time. Perfect. That was exactly what he wanted.

"Well, as I said...you haven't been yourself lately. I'm just being careful."

It was hard to hide the joy and relief Charles felt, when he saw that his friend took the helmet off and let it float towards the desk behind him. Finally, he could feel the presence of Erik's unique mind again. Oh, how he had missed it. He fought the urge to have a quick look, just to see if he could catch a glimpse of what was troubling Erik. But he knew that he couldn't do that, not without Erik's permission. He had to be patient.

Erik looked at Hank and said: "You can go now. I'm not a threat. The helmet's over there. See?"

Hank frowned but before he could say anything, Charles entered his mind. _"It's alright Hank, you can go. Without the helmet, I can stop him immediately if he tries to harm me in any way."_

 _"Okay... but I just wanna say that I don't like it and I still don't trust him and I'll be waiting right outside the door."_

 _"Thank you, Hank. I'll call you if there should be a problem."_

Hank scowled at Erik before he left the room.

"So...you tried to say something before? About the...well...whatever it is you're missing."

Obviously it was hard for Erik to talk about it, but now that it was only him and Charles inside the room, he had the heart to at least try it.

"Yes, erm..I..", Erik stopped and took a deep breath before he continued, "something changed and I don't know how and when exactly but it did. During the time we spent at the lake house, I felt...happy. I was with you and that was all I wanted. In the night, before I was abducted, you were lying in my arms and I have never felt closer to you. I swore to myself to protect you and I knew that I would never...could never leave you again. It filled me with absolute horror to even think about being separated from you. But all of it, all that I felt back then is gone. The memory of it is all I can recall, not the feeling itself. Now...when I think of you, when I am with you...I feel nothing. And usually I am glad when feelings disappear, because they are debilitating and rather unnecessary at times, but I must admit that I miss what I felt for you. I want it back. In the past three days I tried to find it, tried to fix it somehow, rebuild it from the memories I had of it but nothing worked. There were moments when I would get paranoid. The thought that someone had erased those feelings from my mind, seemed to be the only explanation as to why I couldn't find them anymore. At times I even suspected you...because...you know...maybe you want me to go and..."

"No! I would never do that, Erik. And I didn't! I don't want you to go. For three days I wanted nothing more than to have you by my side." Charles sighed, he wished that Hank would've made Erik come to him earlier. This was exactly what he had feared would happen. Erik had probably restored that dark and confusing place inside his mind and had pushed all the feelings in there that weren't useful to him during his imprisonment in the metal room. Of course this was just a theory and Charles had to find out if it was true.

"Would you let me have a look?" Charles asked, putting two fingers to his temple. "Maybe I can find out what happened."

There was silence for a while and Charles sensed that Erik was fighting against his paranoia, that a part of him still thought that Charles might have done something to his mind. In the end reason won and he nodded.

In a matter of seconds, Charles found his way back to the dark place in Erik's mind where he had seen the ball of metal wires the first time. And there it was, just like Charles suspected, a new tangled mess of feelings and emotions that Erik had put away. There was a distinct difference to the first one though. The wires were so tightly wrapped and intertwined that it was much harder for Charles to disentangle them. Erik had desperately forced his feelings out of the way, as fast as possible.

Charles heard a yelp and the words: "What are you doing to me?"

 _"I found your missing feelings. You have put them away yourself, just like the last time. I'm trying to set them free. Does it hurt?"_

"Yes", Erik gasped.

Charles immediately retreated and was shocked to see his friend's face contorted with pain.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you. But I'm afraid, you were very thorough this time. Setting them free isn't that easy."

"It's okay. I can take it. Go on." Erik clenched his teeth and nodded when Charles hesitated to enter his friends mind to finish what he'd started.

It was complicated and the fact that he heard Erik groan with pain didn't make it any easier. To find the root of it, the beginning of the thread in order to be able to disentangle it was much more challenging than the first time.

Charles was relieved when he finally found it. Whilst he was unravelling the chaotic ball of metal wire, he took a closer look at its origin and what he saw made him feel terribly sad. He understood, why Erik had had the need of freeing his head like that. The pain and agony his friend had felt in that room would've been too much to take for anyone. Even for someone as strong as Erik.

Suddenly Charles felt a surge of anger. Leon had gotten away too easy! He should have tortured that bastard for days, not just for a few minutes. He should've ripped him apart, skinned him alive, made him eat his own intestines and eyes. He should have...WHAT THE HELL WAS WRONG WITH HIM?!

Charles couldn't believe that he was capable of such thoughts. Leon's death had been brutal enough, unnecessary brutal. Charles wasn't proud of his actions. So why would he even THINK that he should've tortured him more? Charles was shocked about his own imagination. The graphic details about how he should've treated Leon, were harrowing and made him feel nauseous. That something like that could've emerged from the depth of his own mind was deeply worrying.

He would get to the bottom of it but not right now, he had other things to deal with. The wires inside Erik's mind were finally disentangled and the blackness dissolved. Erik would be overwhelmed by all the pent-up feelings and Charles had to be there for him.

* * *

Erik slid from the chair and onto his knees, tears streaming down his face. He was kneeling next to Charles' bed and let his upper body collapsed onto it. In an attempt to muffle his sobs, he buried his face in the blanket.

Charles had succeeded. He had dissolved the blackness and disentangled the wires once again. Erik's emotions, all of them, were now free, flowing through him like a wild river. It overwhelmed him and much like the last time, Erik wasn't able to stop the tears.

He himself had gotten rid of the feelings. He had created this blackness, that had taken them away. It was designed to make him stronger, to ignore fear, to be able to deal with pain. Erik had used this technique since his time in the concentration camp and it had helped him countless times. He understood now why the blackness had swallowed the feelings he had for Charles along with the fear and pain...because they made him weak.

"You make me vulnerable, you make me weak", Erik sobbed.

There was no response, instead Charles began to stroke his head calmingly. And this small comforting gesture meant so much to Erik, because through the touch of Charles' hand, he felt a surge of emotions... emotions he had been looking for in the past three days.

And yes, they made him vulnerable and yes, they made him weak...but he needed them. To ignore them, to shove them away would make him strong in some situations, that was true, but it would cripple him in the long run. He would always have this nagging feeling that something wasn't right, that something was missing. He had to accept them, the feelings for Charles...his weakness.

Erik's broken ribs began to hurt. The way he was lying on the bed started to get uncomfortable and the sobbing didn't help either. Charles seemed to notice that and said: "You can lie next to me on the bed if you want to."

Erik didn't object to that offer and so he lay down next to Charles on the bed, leaning his head against his friends shoulder.

"I know that having a weakness is a nightmare for you but you have to know that you are my weakness, too. Leon abducted you because he knew that I would do anything to get you back. Even if it mean to free a murderer. But that doesn't mean that I want you to vanish, on the contrary. To care about someone means to be vulnerable and that isn't a bad thing."

"But people will use this against us, just like Leon. And you know that the list of my enemies isn't exactly short." The storm of emotions that had been set free, was now dying down a bit and Erik was able stop the tears. "What if someone like Leon comes along again?"

A low growl resounded in Erik's head, followed by the words: _"I'll make him eat his own intestines."_

The voice unmistakably belonged to Charles but it sounded lower, deeper and Erik had never heard him talk like this. Neither telepathically, nor out loud.

"We'll deal with this when it happens", Charles said.

"What did you just say?"

"I said, we'll deal with..."

"No, not that. You said something right before, telepathically."

"No, I didn't." Even without looking at Charles, Erik knew that he was frowning, he heard it in his voice.

"Well, you can have a look inside my mind if you like. I don't think I made that up."

It didn't take long and Charles said: "Oh..."

"That was you, right?"

"It sounds like me, but I don't remember saying it, let alone thinking it."

"Is there another telepath close by, who could've done that? Maybe the one who was involved with the military?"

"No. I check the area around the school regularly. And I was keeping an eye on that telepath since Hank and I broke Leila out of that military facility. This guy is nowhere near. He couldn't have done it."

"So it must have been you then."

"...must have been..." , Charles mumbled, clearly worried.

"Don't brood over it. You're probably just tired and it slipped out of your subconscious mind.

"hm..maybe."

Erik sighed inwardly. Who was he kidding? Of course Charles would brood over it, because even Erik had to admit that it was uncharacteristically brutal of him to say/think something like that.

Erik tried to take his friend's mind off this incident by talking about the future. At first Charles was still absentminded and he answered mostly in monosyllables but then it seemed to dawn on him that Erik really considered to stay at the mansion and he pushed his worries aside.

"You're really staying then?" The happiness that radiated from Charles was almost tangible.

Erik closed his eyes for a while, pressed his nose to Charles' shirt, breathed in his scent and said: "Yes. Even if you make me weak...I need you."

They continued making plans for the future. And Erik stated the he wouldn't be a teacher, he would help with errands or repairs though, but that was about it. He would eat and sleep at the mansion and he would spend as much time as possible with Charles.

However, Erik told his friend that he needed time for some side-projects as well. It could be the case that he would spend a few days away from the mansion but he assured him that he would always return.

Erik avoided to specify the term 'side-projects', because he knew that Charles wouldn't agree. Something told him though, that Charles already knew what it was, because he didn't ask any questions.

Even if Erik was happy to finally be able to be with Charles, he couldn't ignore the fact that thousands of mutants on this planet, were still being hunted down and tortured by humans. And that the military facility that had tried to capture him was still operating and probably still looking for him. And of course Leila's blood. Erik had to find out if there was some of it left, or even worse, if it was already weaponized.

As soon as his broken bones were healed, Erik would gather the survivors of the Brotherhood, if there were any at all, and recruit new mutants. This time, he would be more careful, more vigilant. No spy would ever enter the Brotherhood again. The military would have no advantage over them. Erik would be prepared for every eventuality. Yes.

 _"And I'll rip everyone apart who dares to hurt you. Just like I did with the twins."_ This time the low voice was accompanied by a purr, rather than a growl and was followed by a wave of affection. The voice seemed to like Erik's plan to destroy the military and that he intended to leave no survivors.

Who or what was that voice? It sounded like Charles, but his friend would never like a plan that involved killing humans.

Erik raised his head to look at Charles and just like the first time, he seemed oblivious to what just happened.

"What?"

Erik didn't say anything about the voice, because he didn't want to worry Charles any more. And of course because he would have to look inside Erik's head again and then inevitably stumble upon all those plans Erik had for the Brotherhood. That would most likely end in a fight and Erik didn't want to fight, not now. To lie in Charles' arms felt so right, so peaceful, he didn't want to ruin that.

"I'm really tired. Is it okay for you if I sleep here?"

Charles smiled at Erik and kissed him on the forehead. "Of course."

It wasn't just a ruse, he really felt like he could fall asleep in Charles' arms. After three days of insomnia it was good to feel sleep creeping up on him.

Whatever that voice was, it wasn't an immediate threat. They could deal with it later. And to be honest...it even made him feel safe. It seemed to like him and it had a fierce desire to protect him, so it couldn't be a threat. At least not to him.

And whilst falling asleep, Erik sent a question to the unknown voice: _"Who are you?"_

And Erik, already half asleep, only heard the first half of the answer that the purring voice gave him: _"I am Charles Xavier...but I will be so much more than Charles Xavier...one day."_

the end

Thank you so much for reading this story!

And thanks for all the reviews! I love them!

You guys are the best!

Take care!

Jago


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